


Devil's Swordsman

by oceandawn



Category: Shadowhunters (TV)
Genre: Blood and Violence, Demon!Alec, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, F/F, Fake/Pretend Relationship, Fluff and Angst, Forbidden Love, Heavy Angst, High Warlock of Brooklyn Magnus Bane, M/M, Mutual Pining, Slow Burn, edom
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-04-30
Updated: 2019-12-10
Packaged: 2020-02-10 12:39:15
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 8
Words: 99,380
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18660622
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/oceandawn/pseuds/oceandawn
Summary: One final instrument remains in the war against Valentine, and the Clave are desperate to stop him before his desire to rid the world of demon blood comes true.That instrument is the Soul Sword, fallen to Edom, damned with the angel that fell with it. Hazels are now replaced by the red of Edom's furnace, his code rewritten with the need to feed on sins; a monster forged and feared.Magnus Bane is called to summon that very demon, a demon wrapped in mystery no one has dared to solve, written in books with no clear history.Making a deal with the devil was never part of Magnus’ plan, though.





	1. Deal with the Devil

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello again!
> 
> Some of you may be familiar with this name, some not. It's the rework of an old fic I deleted not long ago, and which was posted all the way back in 2016. I originally only planned that fic to be 10 chapters, but it grew to around 40 in the plan, and the beginning of the story could no longer support my plans.
> 
> But anyway, enough of that, to the good stuff!
> 
> This fic will be explicit in the future, for violence & other things, but those tags will added when the time comes. There's also a f/f relationship that pops up later on, and that doesn't mean Helen and Aline (although they /are/ in this.)
> 
> Enjoy dark!malec and a storyline that I'm really proud of. Old readers will find comfort in later chapters, but enjoy a completely new beginning. This thing was inspired by [this video](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=oz2bcipSIlw&t=) way back by [@Onceuponavideo1!](https://twitter.com/Onceuponavideo1)
> 
> I'm not changing the social tag, so use #ODSfic if you want to do reactions or share your favourite parts! NEW READERS please don't go into that tag and search for older tweets, it may spoil you, and the whole thing about this fic is the mystery and the solving!
> 
> Swordsman Playlist is [here](https://open.spotify.com/user/obsidiayan/playlist/61uYiatFQVska794UTOi2C?si=-X2rEWj1Soem1U0W7XOhqA), and there will be a new song with each chapter. :)
> 
> thank you for being patient with me! hope old and new readers love the new ODS!

  _“Love is a cycle, a cruel whip of fate that leaves hearts bleeding, bruised._

_But if you can’t feel, can’t understand, can’t remember what love is; you’ll never feel the pain of heartbreak._

_You’ll never have to say goodbye, to turn away and never look back, to feel your very soul slip through your fingers, twisted by a fate that was never yours.”_

 

\- - - - -

 

**BROOKLYN, OCTOBER 16th, 2016**

 

Magnus has to come out of the dark eventually. The constant nagging of the Clave to meet their request is driving him up the wall, and there’s no possible way he can change their mind. He even tried sending a letter in reply, _politely_ telling them that he’s rather busy with warlock affairs, but their persistence is a characteristic many have hatred for.

However, it’s not all bad, not when he’s been assigned to his closest Institute for the meeting. At least with the New York Institute, he’s not far from friends if something _does_ inevitably go wrong, or what the Clave ask for is too high of a price-- even for _Magnus Bane._

“Magnus?” A voice greets him, and then as he turns around, a lady stands there with her hand outstretched in greeting, “It’s good to see you. I imagine you’re here on request of the Clave?”

Magnus can’t express the same gratitude. “Well, considering I’ve had  frequent messages sent to my door as well as Shadowhunters, I figured there must be a rather important reason as to why.” He takes her hand, firmly shaking it.

Isabelle Lightwood, Head of the New York Institute, has always been a good ally of Magnus, but even her charm and wit can’t fool the Clave for long.

“I’m sorry about that. I insisted that your answer would be the same as every other warlock’s they’ve asked, but as always, there’s no changing their mind. Not until it’s pretty much just a waste of time and they point the blame on someone else.”

He eyes her, walking by her side as she guides him through the Institute, “Someone sounds awfully resentful against their superiors.”

Isabelle sighs, moving her head back. It doesn’t seem as if she’s going to deny that, and she won’t.

“They’re focusing too much on this sword instead of Valentine. If we capture Valentine, the whole thing with the sword won’t be a problem.” She speaks freely, expecting Magnus to understand, but he doesn’t.

“I’m sorry dear, what sword are you speaking of?”

Just as he finishes his question, they arrive at the room where Maryse stands by Isabelle’s desk. Isabelle gives Magnus a smile, gesturing for him to go first, much to Magnus’ dismay as Maryse glares at him, cold and without care for him.

Isabelle may be a delight, but her mother isn’t so open to _Downworlders._

“Bane,” she says, her attempt at greeting Magnus falling flat.

“Mrs Lightwood, how lovely to see you again.” There’s no hiding the sarcasm in his tone, and by now Isabelle has learned to ignore their stale back and forth disagreements.  

“I can’t say the feeling is mutual, but alas, we need your help.”

Maryse clicks a few times on the laptop before turning it around, and Magnus’ willingness to be here drops dramatically at the face he sees. Maybe putting up with the persistent letters and knocking would have been better than _this._

“Oh, _Inquisitor!”_ His tone shows delight, but his face doesn’t reflect anything but distaste. “You have aged well I see, and is that a new style you’ve done for your hair?”

The Inquisitor clears her throat, as if to say: _are you done?_

Magnus could go on, but he really doesn’t want to be here any longer than he already has. There’s more interesting things he could be doing, like going to talk to Maia at the Hunter’s Moon, filing bills and planning new events for Pandemonium. In fact, anywhere would be better than here, but if there’s going to be vital information on Valentine, who Magnus _knows_ is the current threat to his people, then he’ll stay and listen.

Of course, there’s no harm in having a few jokes. Otherwise, this would be absolutely miserable to be part of.

After looking to her other superiors behind her on the webcam, the Inquisitor turns back and starts speaking. It’s almost as if she’s checking if Magnus really is the right person for the job.

_“Magnus Bane, as the High Warlock of Brooklyn you have a duty to work with the New York Institute and any Clave matters. You may have seen the increased activity and patrols, and this is because of Valentine Morgenstern’s uncovered plan to rid the world of demon blood.”_

Well, he wasn’t expecting that, and this is the _first_ Magnus is hearing of it, “I beg your pardon? Why wasn’t I informed about this when you found out?”

_“We decided not to tell various leaders to reduce the panic amongst Downworlders. As you can imagine, it’s probably not easy to see why we did, but understand that if word got out, we wouldn’t have been able to focus on our efforts to stop him.”_

The crackle of her voice over the laptop speakers makes her sound even more corrupted in her efforts to _protect_ the Downworlders from themselves.

“Continue,” speaks Magnus, sitting himself down, legs crossed as he focus entirely on the Inquisitor, “please explain, as it seems you know me better than I know myself from how you’re speaking.”

She sighs, clearing her throat before speaking. _“Valentine is looking for the Soul Sword. As to our knowledge, that’s not in this realm, but in Edom. Many tales and old tomes speak of the instrument being banished along with the angel that was sent with it. If Valentine gets hold of that sword, he’ll be able to summon the angel and grant his wish.”_

“He has all of the instruments? How did you manage to give him that much time?”

For a moment, the Inquisitor looks as if she’s going to argue back, but there’s hesitation. Magnus is right, and the inquisitor won’t admit that he is, so she moves on.

_“I’m not here to argue, Bane. We called you here so that I can formally request you to summon the greater demon that’s now in possession of the sword.”_

“You want me to summon a fallen angel? For what? So that Valentine is one step closer to making his _dream come true?”_ Magnus shakes his head, not believing any of this, how disorganised and one sided this seems to be. What does he expect from none other than the Clave?

_“If we are to be in possession of the Soul Sword, Valentine will have to come to us, and we’ll be one step ahead in order to capture him and end this feud once and for all.”_

Magnus isn’t buying any of this. “And you’ll have your precious instrument back so that you can force the truth from innocent Downworlders. It belongs where it is, in all honesty, not in the hands of wolves that can’t control their own strays.”

The Inquisitor bites her tongue, wanting Magnus on her side, and being awfully rude towards him isn’t going to ice the cake.

_“This is a matter of life or death, Bane.”_

“Yes, it is – for _Downworlders,_ not _Shadowhunters.”_ He raises his hands, gesturing towards the laptop, “And if it’s not that important for you to physically be here in person to tell me, then how much does the Clave really care about us? If I’m here to summon the demon, don’t I get a say in what happens to it?”

_“The Soul Sword is of angelic property, you have no right to decide what happens to it.”_

“And you have no right to hide this from Downworlders. It’s our lives on the line, not yours.”

She can’t argue with that, and how _foolish_ is she to believe that Magnus would simply just nod his head like a donkey to a carrot on the end of a stick.

And the whole thing with the sword being of angelic properties? Magnus would love to tell them it _would_ be possible for him to decide, but that’s Magnus’ secret to keep and for no one else to know.

_“Every other warlock has refused to summon him, and so we’ve come to you.”_

“Wow, I wonder why they’ve all declined.” Magnus turns his attention to Isabelle, who gives a small smile, almost as if she’s sorry for the Clave’s irresponsible actions. Magnus can’t blame her for not telling him, not when her position is at risk, and Magnus wouldn’t want anyone else to be the head, “But can I ask why I’m the last to know? And why you’ve sworn them to keep secrecy?”

The Inquisitor hesitates. _“None of the other warlocks know why we’re asking them to summon the demon. We strictly asked them to, and without reason, they declined. As I’ve said, we wanted to avoid this getting out to Downworlders, and as the oldest warlock we have on record here, you were our last choice for loyalty reasons. If all else failed, we’d have to tell you the truth.”_

Magnus’ lips form a tight line, almost laughing to himself.

“Oh, how horrid of you to tell the truth. May the angels forgive you for such a sin.” At least he’s the one to know and not another warlock. Not all warlocks are caring and loving as Magnus, and they’d somehow find a way to turn this quest into greed for their own gain. Perhaps they’d even do it for the title of _saving the Downworld._

_“Well, Bane, are you going to summon the demon? We’d require you to do it today if possible, and you’ll be with the best of our warriors at the Institute to protect you.”_

So, this is it. A decision to decide between a potential mess and potential end to the war.

Magnus takes a second, then a few more, swirling both choices on his tongue even when he’s already decided. Perhaps he just wants the Clave to wait, to be on the edge of their seat like the Downworlders are every day of their life.

“No,” he says, tone strong along with his posture, speaking like a leader would for the benefit of his people, “I won’t summon a greater demon that has the key to our demise.”

 _“You’re saying no?”_ even the Inquisitor is as shocked as Isabelle.

“I’m not summoning a greater demon. If you’re speaking of the fallen angel, then there’s no chance a warlock can contain him. He has too much power for you to simply have a conversation with him, and do you have any idea what you’ll trade for such a relic?”

_“We were hoping you’d sacrifice something along with us for the greater good.”_

“Greater good? When you _lied_ to all of us in the first place? If you think the demon will hand over the weapon he was cursed to fall with, then you’re all fools. Do you really expect him to just give it up?”

They look at each other, whispering something the mic on their laptop won’t pick up. Maryse is shifting almost nervously, looking between Bane and Isabelle to see if they interact. Maryse knows of Isabelle’s friendship with Magnus, not that she approves of it, not when her daughter is a role model to many upcoming Shadowhunters.

Thankfully, she’s not the worst of the parents. Magnus has seen much, much worse.

_“You will be paid handsomely, Bane. We won’t have another chance for this, and our time is running out.”_

“That demon is still in Edom, and as far as his tale goes, he’s stuck down there unless he breaks out. So, please, don’t give him a reason to and focus your efforts on finding Valentine. Focusing on two enemies at once will thaw your chances of succeeding with anything if your track records prove anything.”

Scoffing, the Inquisitor seems to have broken her glass exterior, frowning as she speaks with a raised voice. _“You’re making a mistake. This is for your people as well as ours.”_

“No, this is for you and your power. Yes, I’d love to see Valentine behind bars for what he’s done to my people, but summoning this demon isn’t this answer, at least not for you and whatever plan you’ve conjured.”

Magnus stands up, defying the order Maryse gives him to stay.

_“We’ll be in contact again, Bane. It seems you need a few days to decide for yourself as to what you want.”_

“Thank you.” Even though he isn’t thankful for what he’s just been told, the lies and deceit. “I look forward to it.”

Magnus gives Isabelle a short nod, as well as Maryse who seems a little taken back that he would after such a meeting. Magnus may be annoyed, but he’s not an asshole.

Once Magnus is free of that room, he takes a deep breath, smiling as Isabelle meets him outside, escorting him to the front of the Institute so that he can head home.

“I’m sorry, about all of this,” she says, crossing her arms, “I wish it didn’t have to be this way.”

He can’t help but think the same for her; trying her best to better a world that doesn’t even want to try, drowned out by people above her, with the _power_ to change something.

“There’s no need for you to apologise, dear. We’ll figure this out, for both sides.” Magnus places a hand on her shoulder, squeezing to reassure her. “I promise you that.”

Isabelle would ask if he’s going to agree to summon him, but there’s no reason to push him when his answer is more than clear right now.

When the portal Magnus summons zips shut, she sighs, walking back into the Institute to numerous files from the Clave and their plan to win Magnus over.

 

\- - - - -

 

_1 HOUR LATER_

 

Magnus will admit that’s he’s a little _ticked off._ Having the Clave rudely address him, to then have the _nerve_ to demand a summoning that will undoubtedly go wrong when the time arrives. Having Shadowhunters handle this when they’ve already made a complete mess of everything already is bound to lead to more disaster.

Fighting fire with fire is probably the only way they _can_ win this war with Valentine, but relying on a greater demon to just simply hand over the instrument is a fools game. If the Shadowhunters think a fallen angel will simply give back what he was damned with, then they’re blind to anything but themselves and their own greed.

A greater demon will attach to anything worth keeping, selfish in their own ways to gain that little bit of happiness heaven won’t let them have. As a fallen angel, surely, that applies to it as well, if not even more than before.

For whatever reason that angel was damned with the sword, they’re never going to give it back even if the sky starts raining with fire. Perhaps they’d just watch as the world burns, thinking that they brought this upon themselves.

In reality, Magnus can’t blame the Clave for pulling at strings, desperate to end this before it costs them any more liberty or control. If people see that the supposed _leaders_ can’t even control their own lone wolves, then how are the Downworlders and their own people meant to trust them? To follow in line after them?

Swirling his wine in his glass, Magnus takes a big sip, feeling it soothe his throat as he tips his head back.

“Cheer up, sunshine.” Ragnor enters his apartment, a smile on his face, aware of what happened but refusing to give the Clave any misery. “Surely it’s not all that bad.”

“Anything involving the Clave is bad, my friend,” turning towards him, Magnus can’t help but smile as Ragnor turns his nose up at the mention of them.

He shrugs, pouring himself a glass, “Go on, then. Tell me what happened.”

As Ragnor makes himself comfortable on the next available chair, sipping his wine, savouring the taste, Magnus sighs. He doesn’t want to talk about it anymore, not when he’s a few sparks away from throwing an object across the room to let some of his anger out. There’s just something about the Clave and their way of leadership that _really_ grinds Magnus’ gears.

“Well, for one, they want me to summon a greater demon.” And already, Ragnor’s face shifts to one of concern.

“Oh, I see.”

“Yes, _oh,”_ Magnus repeats, turning to the wide window of his apartment, to admire the buzz and lights of the busy streets below, “I had the exact same reaction when they told me.”

“I thought the Clave was against something like that. They avoid making direct contact with demons if they can help it because that’s what their colony of ants is for.”

He can’t help but have a little smile at that, Magnus taking another sip of his wine before continuing, “They’re quite desperate if you haven’t already guessed. With Valentine looking for the last instrument, they’re trying to beat him to the punch.”

Ragnor feels something _click_ into place. An instrument possessed by a greater demon, calling Magnus to summon him and trying their best to persuade him, or _trying_ to persuade him-- surely that can only mean one demon in particular.

“You’re _joking,”_ he clicks his tongue, Ragnor not believing it, “they’re going after the _Fallen?”_

Magnus hums, “Indeed. They call him the Devil’s Swordsman, as do his tales.”

“I’ve only read a few, but that’s enough to know what he’s capable of.” Ragnor almost drinks the entirety of what’s left in his wine glass at the thought of such a summoning going wrong. “God, imagine if he got loose. Now that’s a Clave report no one wants to file.”

Laughing, Magnus turns to face him, watching as he squints from the sharpness of the alcohol. Looks like warlock tolerance doesn’t work 100% of the time.

“Exactly, which is why I said no.”

Ragnor blinks, turning to Magnus. “They wanted you to summon him _today?”_

Nodding, Magnus lifts one of his hands, gesturing to the air. He was just as stunned as Ragnor is right now.

“They’re afraid of Valentine finding a warlock powerful enough to summon him. Unfortunately, they don’t know anyone else who will agree to do it, let alone have the power. I was their last resort.” Magnus could almost laugh at that, considering he’s aware of the power that drums through his veins, commanding his own demons like puppets to a string.

 _Now_ Ragnor is interested, pursing his lips, hand to his chin as he’s lost in thought.

“And they didn’t think to contact me?” he jokes, smiling when Magnus does. “Besides, who lacks the common knowledge that summoning a greater demon with no equal trade for a fallen, angelic instrument isn’t a smart idea?”

“The Clave?” Magnus replies, expected, but it still makes Ragnor laugh.

Which begs the question, one that’s been bugging Ragnor to ask ever since Magnus mentioned other warlocks not having enough power. “So, does that mean no one can summon him but you? I don’t know anyone stronger than yourself, Bane. If no one can summon him, then surely the Clave have no other choice but to send various baskets of free goodies to your door every day for however long.”

“As great as that sounds, I don’t want them knocking on my door every other day. It’s hell already being the only one that can summon him, considering he’s bound to Edom by forces not many can break.” Magnus can because of his bloodline. He _is_ a Prince, after all.

“Well, I’m not going to help you here, friend. I’d love to accept all the free baskets for you, but the London institute is rather busy and I’m rather fond of Aline’s company.”

Magnus raises his glass, glad to take his mind off the nightmare currently haunting him, “You always speak well of her. We must meet one day,” finishing his wine, Magnus places the empty glass back onto the drinks cart.

“Appointing her as the head of the Institute was the best decision the Clave has ever made. She and Helen have helped so many people and they’re willing to risk what’s necessary for the good of the world. Truly, they’re amazing, and I’m sorry you’re left with the worst of the bunch.”

He can’t agree, because Isabelle _is_ rather charming and polite. At least there’s one out of a possible hundred that understand human decency.

“Not all of them are bad,” replies Magnus, walking back to the window, hands in his pockets. “I don’t blame them for being frightened. They’re fighting a war that’s their own fault, and manners are no doubt at the bottom of the list.”

Ragnor shifts in his chair, looking around the room before turning his attention back to Magnus. “Well, you’re not wrong there, my friend.”

“I fear they won’t leave me alone until I either deal with Valentine myself, or I somehow convince the Clave that the Swordsman won’t offer up the instrument.”

“Haven’t you already told them that?” questions Ragnor.

“Yes, but as per usual, the Clave don’t agree. It’ll take me a few months, maybe even years until this whole headache dwindles.”

Oh, the thought of having to deal with the Clave for his eternal lifetime, it’s a horrid thing to imagine. Granted, they probably won’t live as long as Magnus will, but there will always be _someone_ at the reins, pulling their soldiers left and right towards a future no one can visualize.

Every leader that falls, another one takes their place. To get there, they’ll follow the same corrupted footsteps the last one did, avoiding changes as if breathing the wrong way will cause the downfall of all Shadowhunters. They avoid making decisions that will better the future because even they don’t know it themselves, not wanting to solve a problem unless it becomes their own, and usually by then it’s too late to stop the damage.

As an example, Valentine and his crusade to rid the world of demon blood; an exiled wolf from a pack of equally ravenous canines. They’re all as bad as each other, and it’s only when their own image is threatened that they label him as an enemy.

Valentine _is_ an enemy, one that’s caused numerous losses to Magnus’ people, and every day that goes by is another that his plan creeps closer to completion. He just thanks whatever angel that caused the Swordsman’s fall that he’s the most difficult step.

Magnus is the only thing between Valentine and his goal.

Perhaps, he can use that to his advantage.

Ragnor changes the subject completely. Catarina gets off work around twenty minutes later, and she makes her way to Magnus’ apartment via portal where the three warlocks casually talk and drink responsibly.

Of course, there are jokes and casual chatter, but Magnus’ mind is occupied with something else. If he’s the only one who can summon the Swordsman - to his knowledge - then perhaps using that power will bring an end to the war.

However, demons are tricksters, and Magnus has no doubt that there’s going to be something _different_ about the Swordsman. His story is vague to begin with, and then there’s the fact that he possesses an angelic instrument they willingly gave him when he descended from the heavens.

Magnus has even seen mentions that his wings burned when he fell, or that the time he spent in Edom decayed them to the point where he ripped them out himself. The image of a faceless man, tied between anguish and defeat, reaching back to pull out his own wings, a trophy of his past -- Magnus can’t imagine the amount of suffering.

It’s something he needs to be careful of. The demon could be out for revenge, blood, a way back into the mortal realm so that he can laugh at the angels above thinking he’d be punished for all of eternity. Either way, he thinks it may be a risk worth taking, and Magnus is no stranger to fighting a battle.

If anyone has the strength to make a deal with the devil and get away with it, it’s Magnus Bane.

 

\- - - - -

 

Catarina and Ragnor stay for a few more hours. They cook a meal together and enjoy a spot of gossip, Catarina sharing her various tales from the mundanes and Ragnor talking about Aline and her advancements at the London institute.

Eventually they part ways, Catarina heading back home to her own apartment and Ragnor back to London. As the last portal zips shut, Magnus finds himself in silence holding an empty wine glass, the taste of the food they made lingering on his tongue.

It’s been the first catch-up they’ve had in a while. Magnus just wishes it was in different times, where his back and forth argument with himself isn’t constant.

He’s going to do something incredibly stupid or possibly genius, but there’s no saying which until it happens. By then, it may be too late, and Magnus still isn’t sure if he wants to take that risk, no matter how desperate he is to knock two birds with one stone.

The Clave and Valentine.

Magnus can defeat Valentine with the very thing he wants, and the corrupt leaders of the Clave will hopefully see Magnus and the Downworlders as a necessity for balance. As of right now, they’re sheep to a herd, not equal allies, no matter how much the Clave sing about their victories and countless years of supposed _alliance._

There’s no such thing, or this whole ordeal with Valentine wouldn’t exist in the first place.

He’s made up his mind. It’s either this or wait for the Clave to make another questionable decision. Magnus would rather act now than spend another few weeks watching more havoc come to light because of the two sides the Clave is fighting on.

They’re focused on the Swordsman _and_ Valentine. Considering they think the Swordsman stole what was once theirs, given to them by the angels, they want it back no matter the cost. They’re getting too big for their boots as the saying goes, _much_ bigger.

Magnus purses his lips for a moment, looking around his apartment, his glamour fading to see how strong his wards are at this point in time. They’re alright, but for what Magnus needs to do, they need to be much stronger.

Rubbing his hands together, his magic sparks from the friction, making it more volatile as he suddenly spreads his arms wide, blue flames enveloping both of his hands as he speaks a string of words from ages long gone.

The apartment sings back to him, the wards, letterings and symbols on his apartment walls burning as their stability increases tenfold. It takes only a drop of Magnus’ magic, but it’s enough to keep even the most vigorous of demons contained.

He has no idea how the Swordsman is going to react to being summoned, so making sure he has  a plan in case it all goes wrong; there’s no harm in that. None at all.

When Magnus feels the last ward click to a higher frequency, he turns his palms to face towards the floor, as if turning the dial on his powers, the flames simmering to smaller, friendlier flickers. He points two fingers on each hand forward, curling the remaining to his palm. He flicks the two extended fingers away from his chest, pushing various pieces of furniture to the side to make room for the summoning.

Now with his wards stronger and the room to create the sigil, Magnus rolls his shoulders, loosening the tension that’s feeling like talons digging in. There’s no denying his nerves, because there hasn’t been a record of his summoning besides the demon breaking free of Edom.

Magnus will be the first to summon the fallen monster meant to stay in Edom. May his mother watch over him.

Looking around the open space, he deems it adequate, hands curling into fists to silence the flames of his magic. He needs the sigil which is in one of the books of his study.

At the snap of his fingers, the book appears in front of him, caught by a waiting hand which flicks expertly so that the book opens to the page he needs. And there he is.

A black and faceless silhouette, flames rising from his shoulders, gripping a sword dripping with what could only be blood. His eyes are red, like the halo that’s shattered to pieces, but for some reason it’s been drawn above his head, as if he’s latching onto his past.

 _A devil with a halo;_ how fitting to be the saviour of the Downworld.

Looking to the next page, the sigil is drawn with what seems to be ash, a circle with the shape of his sword through the middle. There are wings, or the skeletal remains of wings, drawn upside down towards the tip of the sword. Simple enough, even with the usual patterns and the words of a demonic language encircling them.

Simple, but deadly. And as corny as that saying is, it can’t be any more closer to the truth.

Candles pop up one by one, created by the command of Magnus’ magic, igniting with a small, orange flame when Magnus brings his hand back towards himself. A few dozen will do, and soon, his apartment glows with golden light, almost peaceful.

Magnus knows it won’t last for long, as he commands summoned crayons to draw the sigil on the floor, the colours of red and blue mixing together with the rough texture of the wood.

A minute passes, Magnus making sure that the pattern is accurate. There’s no room for mistakes here, not when Magnus could end up summoning something completely different and cause even more of a headache than he has now.

When the crayons draw the last line, they vanish, and Magnus is left with this heavy sense of _dread,_ rethinking his plan and wondering if this really is the right decision. Well, the sigil is drawn, and the magic is already starting to hold onto it, so there’s really no point in turning back now.

Going over the words to summon him, Magnus studies them a few times, committing them to his memory so he can place the book aside. He needs both hands to summon the magic he needs, as well as the demon himself.

Taking a deep breath, Magnus places his hands together, feels the tension build in such a close space before spreading his arms wide. A string of magic connects both of his hands, sparking with potency, blue turning to red as his glamour falls, golden eyes glowing, matching that of the candles.

Not for long, though, as when Magnus begins to speak the words to summon the Fallen, the candles and their flames bleed red, swallowing the room in a red glow that could only resemble the scorch of Edom.

 _“Swordsman of Edom, the Fallen of past time, hear my call to the confine of these walls.”_ His hands moves in circular motions, palms down to the sigil as if he’s opening a vault, opening the gate of hell itself. _“I summon thee, Swordsman, to hear my request in aid of stopping Valentine Morgenstern.”_

And with that, the sigil ignites, burning red, glowing as a noise similar to a canine’s growl starts to rise from the center. It’s working, and Magnus can’t believe it even though he’s more than capable of summoning him.

 _“I will give you freedom from Edom in exchange, so that your burned wings will no longer carry the burden of your past,”_ A deep breath, one final line. _“Blessed be the fallen, follow the cry, burn the worthy. Devil’s Swordsman, answer my call.”_

A howl erupts from the sigil, fires burning brighter as the Swordsman accepts the summon, burning through the realms to make his way to Magnus’ apartment. Flames rise higher, a heat Magnus is familiar with, but which would have any normal mundane instantly start sweating, unbearable, uncomfortable.

The sparks start to warp, elongating and following certain shapes, flames thickening until they solidify. A body appears, kneeling as the magic and flames all concentrate on forming the shape of _him_. Magnus can’t do anything but watch, his decision forging itself in front of his very eyes, the flames slowly dying down as the figure starts to rise after leaning on the sword that continues to glow bright.

As the figure finally stands up tall, Magnus holds his breath.

Flames are still forging his skin, red eyes _burning_ with the lack of emotion he feels, how the flames don’t even affect him. His tailored suit has no sign of scorch marks, and as the Swordsman lifts the sword from the ground, moving it over his shoulder where the blade cuts through the wards like a hot knife to butter, there’s no emotion to the fact that he’s _easily_ breaking through Magnus’ magic.

The sword now sits against his back, metal cooling down. That’s one part of his story proven true.

So this is him, is it?

Tall, dark hair and handsome, which may be a facade, but a damn good one if the demon has chosen it himself. On the other hand, he _is_ a fallen angel according to his story, or lack thereof; so there’s also a chance this is what he’s looked like all this time.

The room remains bathed in a dull, warm red, and Magnus thinks that the worst of the heat is over; but something else replaces it.

It’s almost as if hands grip his throat, fingertips digging in, the weight of the realm shifting because of the soul it carried with it, as if time doesn’t _want_ the Swordsman to be here. But he is, and he’s silent as he stares at Magnus, waiting.

“Will you do the honour of stating your terms?”

No response, just the demon slightly moving his head, trying to figure Magnus out when he’s only seen him for a few seconds.

“Do you speak?” Magnus asks, watching the demon look around the circle he’s placed in, almost judging his artwork skills.

“Only if they’re handsome.”

Looking up, the demon locks him in a gaze, and only then can Magnus feel the _pressure_ from the aura that swallows the room. His red eyes are no joke, and there’s no guessing the power that dwells beneath his skin.

“I have no time for games, Swordsman. Hear my request or be banished once more.”

Straightening his back, the demon smiles a little, not missing his chance to glance Magnus up and down, admiring the gold highlights in his hair, the striped blouse tucked into his trousers. He has style, one the Swordsman isn’t afraid to admire, taking his time with answering questions.

Magnus is about to speak again, but the demon moves his hand, adjusting his tie and loosening it a little, hooking his finger over the knot.

“What is your request, _warlock?”_

He doesn’t speak down to Magnus, but there’s _something_ that taunts Magnus in the way he says warlock. Perhaps it’s the demon wanting to play tricks, to find a way out of this, but Magnus is no amatuer.

“Are you asking me that to extend your time here, or are you being genuine?”

Magnus is smart, and the demon clicks his tongue at that. “Usually, people would fall for that, considering you say why you’re summoning me when you call for me.”

They both pause, Magnus leaving the floor open for the Swordsman to speak what he wants to say. Magnus is going to be cautious, to not fall into any game he desires to play, to keep himself free of twisted words and warm hands.

“Isn’t this a little _naughty?_ Summoning me behind the Clave’s back?”

Magnus sighs, regretting his choice to do this. “Technically, yes _and_ no.”

“Oh?” He’s curious, tilting his head slightly, the red of his eyes making Magnus feel a little shaken.

Out of every greater demon he’s summoned, this one is _different._ He’s a complete mystery, his name whispered in the halls of the Institute and written in tales that stretch as far back as time goes.

But the strangest thing is that Magnus hasn’t seen him before. He’s heard of the stories, the few times he’s been here with the mundanes, but never anything _bad,_ nothing _demonic_ that would demand Shadowhunter attention.

“Since when do you know about the Clave? There’s only one, extremely vague report of you at the Institute, and every book I’ve ever read only speaks of you visiting the mundane realm to haunt people’s nightmares.” Magnus takes a sip of the wine he summons, amused by the nose scrunch the demon does at such words.

“A vague report?” he hums, clicking his tongue. “I guess I haven’t made myself that well known to be labelled a nuisance.”

“There’s no doubt that you are,” Magnus quips back, keeping his gaze on the demon as he frowns. “Considering I wouldn’t be talking with you right now if the Shadowhunters didn’t care about you. I’ve been robbed of my peace for over a week now, and frankly, I’ve had enough of it _and_ this war that’s hurting my people.”

The Swordsman purses his lips, readjusting his hands behind his back, connecting the dots himself from Magnus’ words. Well, Magnus isn’t wrong, for one. He _is_ a nuisance, and the Swordsman smirks at that, looking from the floor to Magnus, catching sight of what seems to be a nervous gesture.

He’s rubbing his thumb and forefinger together, distracting himself from the silence.

And the demon leaves the silence to grow, to make it drag on, running his tongue along one side of his teeth, _waiting_ until Magnus speaks again.

“Do greater demons not understand the art of conversation?”

He points to himself, then looks around, mocking Magnus’ words. “Who, me?”

Magnus grips the glass a little harder, his next exhale short as Magnus moves closer to the circle, the blue of his magic shimmering up like a pillar, expecting Magnus to touch it, but he doesn’t.

The Swordsman waits on baited breath, not moving when Magnus stands a few steps away. He can break free, knows he can with the Soul Sword on his back, but he finds Magnus incredibly entertaining. Why rush his dramatic exit when he hasn’t enjoyed the company of another for years?

He’s also not forgetting the fact that he’s extremely handsome, can feel the _insane_ grip of power he holds from the wards that keep him in place; there’s no fooling anyone that this warlock may be the Swordsman’s greatest weakness.

“If you’re not going to cooperate, I’ll send you back.” Magnus lifts his hand not holding his wine, two fingers stretched out, ready to command his magic at will.

“Ah–" finally, the demon moves one of his hands from behind his back, holding it up in mild surrender, “–don’t you need me for something?”

“Yes I do.” Rolling his eyes, Magnus continues, “To agree to not give the Soul Sword to a man named Valentine, or to any Shadowhunter you may bump into on whatever travels you go on.”

Magnus hopes it’s enough, that the greater demon will simply just agree to ignore whatever person summons him next. Maybe he doesn’t have to go through with his initial plan considering the demon is rather tame.

But it’s never that easy, is it?

“You’re lying.” Something in his eyes shines at that, looking around Magnus’ figure as if he can see the demons of Magnus’ past haunting him. “That isn’t what you _really_ want from me, is it?”

Biting his tongue, Magnus lowers his wine glass, placing it on the side. “No.”

That gives the demon even _more_ satisfaction. “Very well. I’m all ears—and I’m _very_ interested in what you have to request.”

Magnus looks at him, _really_ looks at him, takes in the detail of his soft yet sharp features, the way his shoulders are so broad even when he stands relaxed. There’s something about him, something that _irks_ Magnus for absolutely no reason at all.

“I want to make a deal with you.” Magnus doesn’t let himself quake, keeping his voice stern.

The demon nods, feeling something prickle inside his chest. He can’t name it, “I’m listening.”

“For too long, the Clave and their mistakes have cost my people everything. They insist that they’re the key to peace, but every day I’m left wondering what they’re really doing to help us other than drive fear into our hearts. If I end this, once and for all, I can finally do what matters most, to help my people and the Downworlders that end up in this horrid, scary world with no one to call family.”

As Magnus speaks, the demon never takes his eyes away from him, almost _admiring_ how Magnus exudes leadership, the concern for the wellbeing of his people something the Swordsman can’t understand.

He has no people, no followers or legacy that speak good of his name. The _Devil’s Swordsman_ is a name that strikes fear into every heart, a volatile demon mix of every sin that exists, to feed on each one until all that remains is the nightmares he’s woven himself.

Standing there, Magnus can’t see it, can’t see why anyone would label him a monster when there’s no record of him _being_ one. Right now, he’s looking at Magnus, almost sympathetic in how he lowers his gaze.

It’s a start, a showing of _something_ that Magnus never expected in the first place. But as quick as it appears, it’s gone.

“So, you want me to do all your dirty work? I’m no stranger to that, but I fear I must come clean with something before you decide to sell your soul.”

Magnus laughs. “I’ll be giving you no such price, think again.”

The demon hums, thinking _fair enough_ before tilting his head to the other side. “How about you let me out of this prison and I’ll work with you— _without_ a deal?”

“What do you take me for? A fool?” Rearing his head back, Magnus mocks him with the tone of his voice.

“No.” The stern drop of that word shakes Magnus a little. He was flirting with him mere moments ago, but the demon’s demeanor has changed. “I know who you are, and I know what you’re capable of.”

Magnus freezes, a little choked up as it feels like he’s swallowed a stone. But then something kicks in, as if his own magic sparks beneath his skin as a reminder. He doesn’t miss however, how the demon looks away for the first time throughout this whole encounter.

 _Good._ Let him fear Magnus.

“And who am I?” Magnus wants to check, to see if the demon has done his research on the royalty of the realm in which he resides.

And the demon keeps Magnus hanging on, his smile slowly growing back into that smirk, the one that makes his eyes dangerously attractive from how he frowns a little.

“You’re Magnus Bane.” He pauses, watching the slight twitch in Magnus’ fingers before continuing,  “Prince of _Edom.”_

The very mention of that place makes Magnus uneasy. Just because he’s royalty of that realm doesn’t mean he loves it. If anything, he despises everything about that place, even if the embers fuel every pulse of his magic. He’s as powerful as he is because of Edom, his very own furnace similar to the one below their feet inside his soul, almost as if he’s carrying the power of the realm with him every step he takes.

“I should be bowing to you, no?” The Swordsman tips a little forward, hand to his stomach as he bows.

He’s royalty, after all.

“My blood does not reflect who I am.”

“I didn’t say it does,” and his smirk grows as he straightens up again, “only that you’re of royalty. Must be satisfying having all that power at your fingertips, being able to let the world drown in fire, to warp fate with your very hands; it’s rather attractive.”

“It would be, in the eyes of demons like you.” Such an insult makes the demon lose his amused expression, almost _offended._

“That’s a little harsh, isn’t it, Bane? You don’t know my story, so who are you to judge?” The Swordsman is twisting his words, and Magnus won’t fall for it.

“If you know who I am, why do you joke and flirt?”

“Why do you return it?” Questioning Magnus with the sly tip of his smile, almost smirking but not quite, the demon puts his hand behind his back again.

For a moment, Magnus _doesn’t_ know why. He _still_ doesn’t know why when he answers the demon. “Can’t I have a little fun, too?”

The demon knows he’s getting to him, the twist and sly roll of his words, listening to everything Magnus says to use it against him. Magnus likes his voice, but not _that_ much.

“If I’m not mistaken, it was _you_ who said that if I didn’t cooperate you’d send me back.”

“Still can,” replies Magnus, moving the hand he has outstretched to further prove his point. “All it takes is a little _flick—_ and you’ll be gone.”

Well, he can’t argue with that.

“Alright.” He clicks his tongue, flicking his head up as if to say; _get on with it._ “Go on.”

Magnus adjusts his jacket, clearing his throat so that every word he speaks is one that clearly conveys his message. If there’s one slip up, the demon is going to take advantage of that.

“I want to change things, specifically how the Clave works and their continuous corruption of every generation, because they still believe they’re not doing anything wrong. To do that, I have to stop Valentine, because I don’t want my people to suffer through another war caused by a man who insists we’re monsters. Our blood is not our choice, and to have the choice of living taken away from us?” Magnus shakes his head, sickened by the speech he once heard from Valentine the last time they met, “It’s an evil worse than you right now.”

“Shouldn’t you be saying _we?”_ His jokes don’t amuse Magnus, so he sighs and continues regardless, “And what do you plan to do after we send this _Valentine_ to whatever hell he belongs too?”

“Well, the Clave will come looking for you, and that means despite whatever freedom I give you as part of our deal, they’ll chase you down for as long as time will tick. You have an instrument that once belonged to them.”

 _“Once_ being the keyword here. If they think I’m going to hand it over, especially with the power it has when they’re already playing with power they can’t control, they’re more egocentric than I once thought.”

Magnus finally smiles, and the demon squints, his body not sure why it _tingles_ at seeing such an expression. He can’t name the emotion, can’t _feel_ it.

“I’m afraid you’re correct. If it comes to it, I may have to find a way to blend you into their ranks–”

The demon interrupts him quickly, almost afraid of Magnus continuing that sentence. _“No.”_

“I don’t blame you for thinking that.” Magnus walks to his drink cart, picking up another glass, intending to give one to the demon. “So, we’ll think of how to deal with the Clave when the time comes. First, we’ll deal with Valentine and any other strays that want to cause more than a headache.”

Having dropped his somewhat stone cold tone, the demon returns to his devilish smirk when Magnus turns around, and the two pause.

Magnus looks at him, finally taking in the sharp fit of his black suit, the scar in his eyebrow that either has the most _interesting_ or _bland_ story attached to it. He also didn’t fail to notice his ringed hands when he gestured to him earlier. Being dressed in all black, he really is the definition of _business,_ void of any colour and personality. There’s only the burning, luring red of his eyes to warn people of the simmering power underneath, the thousands of souls and sins he’s feasted on fueling the catalyst inside whatever remains of his hollow, demonic heart.

Annoyingly, he interests Magnus. So much so that he’s not afraid to look him up and down, completely questioning the depiction of him in the greater demon book, as to why he’s painted to be such a monster when he’s so devilishly handsome. Maybe that’s the reason why, to warn people of the true nature that hides beneath a facade.

“Since we’re going to be working together,” Magnus starts, tilting his head, “may I have your name?”

The question shocks the demon, not expecting it.

But alas, he answers, not seeing why he should hold it back when he’s going to be stuck with Magnus for the foreseeable future.

“Alec.”

Short, simple.

“Alec.” Magnus tests his name on his tongue, and for a second, the demon parts his lips, almost as if he’s going to reply with something, but he stops himself. “Is that your real name or is it a trick?”

“No tricks. You already know of my other name.” And Alec _winks,_ actually _winks._

Magnus can’t see any reason for that to be a lie, and there’s no twitches or gestures in his body language that say otherwise. Why would he avoid speaking his real name anyway? What does he have left to lose?

He’s already fallen, wings burned beyond repair, a past that even he himself can’t make sense of or remember; there’s nothing worse than that.

It’s not like Magnus isn’t in the same boat. He too, has nothing to lose. There’s no love waiting for him to come home after a day’s work, and his friends all have their own lives. Magnus is somewhat of a fallen angel too, because he follows in the bloodline of one, a man who haunts the realm below.

“I believe you,” says Magnus, turning around to fill the wine glass for Alec.

As far as this is from a normal business deal, it doesn’t hurt to be a little friendly.

“Are you sure that’s smart? To believe a demon?”

“You could say the same for me.” Pouring the wine, Magnus doesn’t dare look at him until he turns around again. “As you said, I’m royalty, and not of a heavenly kind.”

Alec enjoys that, considering he has that amused little smirk again, soon shifting his attention to the wine glass offered to him. He’s about to ask if Magnus is being serious, but the ward around Alec suddenly drops, giving him freedom.

He’s not sure how to deal with this, and so, Alec looks back up to Magnus, swallowing at how Magnus simply _dares_ him to do something stupid. Alec doesn’t want any express trips back to Edom, so he’ll behave.

For now, at least.

Taking the wine glass, Alec avoids any skin contact, fragile as he takes it, expression dropping to one of nerves for a split second. Magnus doesn’t catch it, too busy looking at the exchange.

“What a gentleman,” coos Alec, raising his glass in a gesture of thanks before taking a sip. His face contorts a little, not expecting the kick, licking his lips. “This is rather strong, isn’t it?”

“Can’t handle your liquor?”

“Forgive me, Edom doesn’t have a local bar. If there was one, I’m sure the screaming souls would drive all the customers away, including me.” Despite voicing his distaste for it, Alec takes another sip, and then _downs_ the entire thing.

Magnus won’t answer back to that, simply sighing, because he’s going to need that alcohol for what’s to come. “Shall we discuss terms?”

Alec chooses not to speak, nodding as he savours the sweet taste on his tongue.

“As you already know, I’ve summoned you so that you can help me take down Valentine, and in the process, weed out the corrupted leaders of the Clave so that they’re not going to chase your tail for as long as I live.”

“This all seems… _a bit much,_ don’t you think? Can’t you just track Valentine yourself, considering your _status_ and _power?”_ He scrunches his nose, and Alec doesn’t realise he’s hunching his shoulders until they drop to their normal height again.

“Don’t you think I would have done that already?”

“I’m only asking, Bane. Why go through the effort of  summoning me, allowing him to be one step closer?”

“He’s a man that doesn’t want to be found. With the sword in my possession”–and Alec _frowns_ at that–“this will be dealt with in a manner that’s beneficial for both Downworlders and Shadowhunters. There won’t be deals or exchanges apart from this one.”

“A selfless man, I see.” Alec shakes his head, in disagreement with Magnus’ willingness to sacrifice what could be his reputation for the good of his people, no matter if they spit on his name afterwards.

“I’m willing to do what must be done,” Magnus replies, firm, no hesitation even though his heart _squeezes_ from the words, “and sometimes, it’s not what we want.”

Alec parts his lips, and Magnus thinks he’s going to say something, the way his jaw shifts from left to right an obvious sign that he wants to; but he doesn’t. He closes his lips, eyes darting around the room before ending up at his own feet. He really seems to be arguing with himself on something, torn between keeping it and speaking out loud.

Either way, the silence wins.

“So, the terms?”

Magnus is disappointed that Alec _doesn’t_ speak his mind, because sue him for being interested in Alec. This is a greater demon born from the angels and their hatred for whatever he did, forged and made powerful in the furnace of Edom, swallowed by sins and nightmares that he’ll never shed. They’re part of him now, and seeing a break in that exterior, as little and as short as it is; it’s _something._

Something is better than nothing, especially if he’s going to be partners with him until this awful war ends.

“You’ll be under contract, magical of course, so any ill intentions or breaking the terms set will result in your banishment back to Edom.”

He pauses, allowing Alec to agree.

Alec does, nodding.

“You won’t feed on any mundane, show yourself to any mundane, especially not a Shadowhunter. This deal is not to be shared, not to anyone but us.”

“Hmm, _secretive.”_ Alec rolls the word on his tongue. “Right up my alley. I can stick to the shadows, no problem.”

“Good.” Magnus doesn’t linger on that fact any longer. “You will take no lives during this, do you understand? Even if I let you feed, _if_ the circumstances ask for it, you won’t push far enough that it causes a loss.”

Alec nods again, hanging on to the _maybe_ more than he should.

“Also, I don’t require you to hang around like a lost puppy. You’ll answer to my call when I need your assistance and nothing more. There’s no casual chat or _bonding_ because of this, and that’s final.”

Magnus might be fooling himself with that one, because Alec isn’t having any of it, _and_ he’s already offered him a glass of wine. If he’s being truthful about his plans to keep this strictly business, then Alec is going to be devastated. There’s nothing wrong with having a little fun.

“I don’t mind answering calls if you’re the one making them.” Even with the very subtle look he gives Magnus, the warlock doesn’t budge, and that sparks something inside the demon that _wants_ a little tension, a little competition.

“Well, will you?”

“Yes, considering you’re going to make me sign a contract?” Alec leaves the question hanging in the air.

He ponders, pursing his lips, but Magnus comes to a conclusion quickly. “How about a warlock rune?”

Well, he wasn’t expecting that.

“A rune?” Laughing a little, it calms when Magnus’ expression doesn’t shift.

Holy shit, he’s being serious.

“Forgive me, Alec, but I’m not going to entrust you with a contract when you have the power to break it. Words can be warped, but magic sigils can’t, once they’re inked into your skin.” He’s absolutely calm when he speaks, Magnus almost amused by how tense the demon seems to be holding himself now.

What happened to all that oozing confidence he had moments ago?

“Alright,” either way, Alec agrees, albeit not completely, “I see your point. Can’t blame you for not trusting me when at any moment, I could turn around and – well, _you know the rest.”_

There’s that smirk. Magnus almost missed it. He quickly shoves that thought into the back of his mind, locking it tight and throwing away the key.

“Do you agree to the terms?” asks Magnus, fingertips growing cold with the weight of what he’s just asked.

Alec thinks through it, sees a future that proves to be entertaining. If he follows the rules, does as he’s asked, then he’ll get freedom from Edom for a period of time and perhaps even eternity. There’s no better payment than that, not when he’s so used to the cooler, silent air of the mundane realm already.

“Deal.”

Magnus heart sinks, and he has no idea why.

He’s the one that came up with this plan, no one else. Why is it suddenly so hard for him to come to terms with making this deal – a deal with the _Swordsman?_

Swallowing his nerves, Magnus takes a step forward, keeping his eyes on the demon as he raises one hand. His magic sparks from his palm, rich in blues that shine on Alec’s face. There’s no beating that warm, violent red shining from the demon’s eyes, even with Magnus’ magic within touching distance.

Alec doesn’t shake his grip on Magnus, keeping his eyes locked with his until Magnus goes to reach for his jaw with one hand. He speaks quickly before Magnus can make contact.

“Wear a glove, preferably one with magic.” His tone is nothing short of concern.

“Why is that?”

There’s doubt in his eyes, a moment of slim sadness. “I have a curse.”

Magnus would press more about it, but Alec seems determined not to break, almost as if admitting that is a weakness on its own. The least Magnus can do is be thankful that he told him, summoning a pair of gloves that slide over his skin like waves reaching across a shore.

Alec seems less tense now, and he breathes out, trying to keep it soundless so Magnus doesn’t realise he _was_ holding his breath – but Magnus felt it.

“Better?”

He affirms Magnus’ question with a nod, not moving when Magnus holds his jaw with his fingers.  Alec feels something well up in his chest, an echo of what he feels he should know.

Allowing the flames in his palm to grow, Magnus extends one finger out, letting all of that potent magic focus itself on one point. The end of his forefinger glows blue, burning hot as it steams, Magnus tipping Alec’s head to the right so he get a clear view of his neck.

 _“Not_ this side,” Alec jerks his head back, away from Magnus’ fingers that held his face, “the other one.”

Magnus isn’t completely sure if this is more time being wasted so Alec can conjure up a plan B, but the way he jolted under the burning sensation of his finger speaks something else to Magnus. He also felt something there, a magic of Alec’s own creation.

Alec is looking directly at him, something distant in his eyes.

“As you wish.” He can’t deny him comfort, since this is going to hurt.

Taking hold of his jaw again, Magnus tilts his head to the other side so he can see the right side of Alec’s neck, clicking his thumb and forefinger together again so the sparks concentrate on the tip of his finger, almost as if he’s lighting a match.

As his fingertip makes contact with Alec’s skin, the demon releases a harsh breath, tensing beneath his hold as Magnus starts drawing. But then he just stands there, as if the burning of his skin is a walk in  the park.

He can’t feel it.

Alec can’t feel the pain, or it’s not _hot_ enough for him to feel it. Perhaps only Edom’s flames can cause him any feeling.

Magnus concentrates on the sigil, forming one of his own creation so that it’s engineered for this specific deal, one where Alec is blocked from entering Edom until he breaks a rule or the deal is over. He can’t see Alec going back once he has a taste of freedom, and Magnus is very aware, if not extremely familiar with how dark, depressing and how much of a literal _nightmare_ Edom is.

It’s similar to his summoning design, but without all the demonic language. When it’s complete, Magnus moves his finger away, watching as it still glows orange from the heat, steaming slightly.

“That’s not a sigil I know,” Alec breathes out, wanting to move his jaw away from Magnus’ fingers, but something echoes in his chest, telling him to keep still.

“It wouldn’t be.” Magnus inspects the rune is burning correctly, lingering close to check over the design, making sure he’s done it without backdoors. “I’ve made it just now, that’s why.”

“Wow. Colour me impressed, Bane.”

As Magnus steps back, Alec lifts his hand to feel for the warlock rune, the drawing substantially hotter than the surrounding skin. Magnus watches him as he stands there in thought, almost at ease that the drawing _is_ there and not a figment of some wicked imagination.

“Does it feel strange?” Magnus asks, drawing the same rune onto the wrist of his right arm, hissing through his teeth at the burning sensation.

When the sigil is finished, they both feel a jolt between them, a string pulled taut; confirmation that the contract is sealed. The deal is struck.

“No. Just admiring your work.” Something shifts in Alec’s voice, and even the sly tone he uses can’t fool Magnus. “I hope you don’t mind me glamouring it.”

“Not at all.” Magnus glamours his own mark as he speaks, waving his palm over the sigil. “I’ll have to hide this from everyone, even my closest friends.”

“How exciting is that? Going against the rules, summoning a greater demon to partner up with him on some secret mission to save the world. It’s all pretty amusing, if you ask me.”

“You may be my partner, but you’re still my enemy,” Magnus warns him, takes the blank expression Alec gives as an answer that he also agrees with such a statement.

“A deal is a deal, Bane.” But there’s room for teasing, and Alec can’t help himself. “But if you ever want to explore, to feel something new, there’s no harm in asking.”

He’s not demanding it, at least. Alec is leaving an option for him, a _one night only or maybe a few more_ card that Magnus secretly tucks into his back pocket. Magnus won’t show him his subtle interest in that, because even despite this deal being just business, Magnus is not a man to shy away from luxury.

And there’s no denying the secrets hidden behind those red eyes, the touches that find their way into the night, images that forge from his own desire, forgotten and decayed from heartbreak. The longer he looks at Alec, eyes locked, the more those images start to warm, to curl into something else inside his stomach.

Magnus clears his throat, the demon running his tongue along the bottom row of his teeth, obviously amused that his little trick of magic worked somehow. He honestly didn’t expect Magnus to even _think_ of what he meant, but he’s satisfied either way.

“Are you done?”

“Are you?” Alec replies, putting his hands into the pockets of his trousers.

“Quite.” Magnus places down Alec’s wine glass, turning his back to him, half expecting the demon to make a move or escape. Much to Magnus’ relief, he doesn’t move an inch, just simply watching him.

“So, do I wait here like a good little demon if you have a task for me now, or am I allowed to explore at will?” asks Alec, looking around the apartment for the first time, settling into his small moment of freedom from wards and Edom.

“I have no use for you, _yet,”_ states Magnus, turning back to him, “until I do, you’re free to roam the mundane world. But remember our deal, because if you break it, that sigil will send you straight back to Edom without a second chance. Do you understand?”

“You’re telling me to _behave?”_ Alec huffs, entertained that Magnus would even think otherwise. Of course he’s going to play some tricks, feed on some sins – he’s a greater _demon._

“Yes,” simply put, and Alec just blinks, “because if you don’t, then I’ll act every part of my royal blood.”

Oh, now _that_ makes Alec interested. Either way, he complies, simply nodding which seems to be enough to satisfy Magnus. That is, until Magnus proves him wrong.

“Do you _understand?”_

A pause, but then Alec replies, “Yes, _Bane.”_

Just like that, the strengthened wards shift, and Alec feels the change, rolls his shoulders. The weight he felt before is gone, and Magnus keeps his eyes on him, waiting for his next move.

“Pleasure doing business with you, I hope your investment proves successful.” Alec takes a step towards Magnus, pulling a black card from his pocket, the material still forming as he summons it from his own magic. “Here’s my card.”

“Greater demons have their own business cards now?” Magnus hovers his hand near the card Alec offers, waiting for him to explain himself.

“Not all of us. I don’t.” He shrugs, “I thought it’d be fitting since this is a business deal. My number is on there.”

Alec must talk to various other demons when he’s in Edom, otherwise how would he be aware of such mundane things without prior knowledge? No demon understands human culture unless they live amongst it, so Alec must know very little.

“Charming.” Magnus takes the card, frowning at the blank sides.

“I’m sure you’ll figure that one out.” Alec starts stepping backwards, hands in his trouser pockets again. “Keep you entertained while I’m gone.”

“The Clave is enough to deal with. I don’t need you bothering me too.”

He doesn’t seem to take that well, but Alec can’t help but turn it into a joke. “Oh? It’s only a matter of time, though.”

“And whatever do you mean by that?” asks Magnus, putting the business card into his waistcoat chest pocket.

“You’ll know.”

He’s being cryptic, and usually, that’s Magnus’ job. Still, he can’t help but want to know _why_ he says such a thing. Surely, Alec can’t see how broken and jaded his heart is, how he desperately wants someone that stays, not abandons and poisons.

“See you around, Bane.” He salutes Magnus, fading to ash and small embers that catch fire before dwindling to nothing. _“Don’t be afraid of the dark.”_

And the air settles, the squeezing power of his aura gone, and Magnus _breathes._

Closing his eyes, Magnus reaches back into his chest pocket, taking out the card and flipping it over multiple times. There’s still no number or any lettering, not until Magnus summons his magic to his palm.

Only then, when the blue magic fades to red, switching to the mixture and potency of Edom’s flames does the text burn itself onto the card. There’s a number on one side, Alec’s summoning sigil underneath, and on the other side a message waits for Magnus to read.

 

_‘i look forward to working with you, Bane. call me when you need me. no price needed.’_

 

_\- - -_

_“And when the snakes sing, you’ll know right from wrong,_

_But no one ever knows when they will,_

_And whether it will be too late or not soon enough is up to fate itself.”_

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> a BIG thank you to my beta, @Lakritzwolf! - they really helped me with starting this monster again!


	2. Night Choir

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ok. so i have to say a HUGE thank you for the feedback and love and all the support on the first chapter. I was honestly so worried the rework wouldn't get anywhere and people simply wouldn't want to read a new version even if I promised it to be 'better'.
> 
> i cant thank you guys enough, and i hope this chapter is worth the wait! a lot of you missed out on demon!alec from my wacky planning last time, so now you get to experience it more, and if you like it or hate it, that's up to you I guess? but i hope you love it! all the pain/etc will be worth it in the end :')
> 
> remember to use #ODSfic if you're live tweeting/reacting!
> 
> see you on the other side!

_'If the world loves me, why has it forgotten?_

_If I'm meant for a second chance, why do I already feel as if I've lost?'_

 

**\- - - - -**

**_2 DAYS LATER_ **

 

Freedom feels lonely. Wandering through the bustling streets of New York, Alec struggles to find interest in anything.

Even though he’s not technically free _yet,_ he’s being given a taste of it, temptation to keep going despite knowing there’s a possible workaround to the deal. All he has to do is persuade Magnus, to charm him, or to turn him into something evil.

Alec doesn’t see why he even thinks of the last one, considering he doesn’t know which way to turn already. Being able to see the worst in people, he can’t see one inkling of evil in Magnus, not one bit, even though his magic is formed from the worst place imaginable.

He can’t think straight, a future now in sight but no clear vision of it. There’s too much on his mind, more than there ever was before.

First of all, he doesn’t understand it. There’s a wild mix of deep jealousy and peculiar curiosity that keeps him walking, step after step while he’s glamoured in these crowds. In his head, he gives himself hope that there _will_ be something he can recognise, to give a name to.

But there’s nothing. Just blunt confusion.

He hears people talking about work, about holidays, and various expenses. Alec doesn’t even know what an _expense_ is, and he finds himself looking to the sky and hoping it’ll swallow him. Overwhelming is the only word he can think of, and it’s not what he was expecting, but it’s what he’s getting, and Alec can’t weave through the crowds any longer.

Teleporting himself to a roof, Alec sits himself down on the edge, opening his suit jacket so it doesn’t get chafed. The last thing he wants to do is damage the only clothing he has. Perhaps he should get some new ones, blend in a little more and hope Magnus allows him to be something other than a ghost, listening to people talk to themselves when they don’t even believe that Alec is there.

Alec can see their sins, desires, wishes; demons on their shoulders, waiting to be plucked by Alec himself and strung to a tune as he makes it reality. But he can’t do that, not when the rune on his neck burns with any thought of doing such a thing.

It doesn’t hurt, but it tickles, as if his body is allowing him to feel _something;_ which is this deal he’s locked himself into hoping it’d be better than the rabid grasp of Edom.

Sitting here, watching the world go by, he concludes that it’s not much different.

Granted, it’s not burning with flames and heavy on the eyes, but watching people _live_ when Alec _can’t;_ it’s Alec’s own personal hell.

The few times he escaped was to just _breathe_ air that isn’t ash and molten. Seeing life for a few seconds, watching a couple hold hands under the streetlights, a bunch of friends singing loudly on their way home from the bar; it makes Alec imagine what he’s forgotten.

Alec has been forged to be this perfect machine, to feel nothing but that of his sins, to feed on what he knows is wrong but could otherwise make no difference to him. He’s a greater demon, a monster that literally creates, and _is,_ the subject of nightmares. But Alec can’t help but think this isn’t how it’s meant to be.

If this world doesn’t mean anything to him, if he’s not meant to care; why do his lungs stutter when he thinks about what he’s lost?

He’s lost something. He knows what it is, and he can’t say it. Alec fears that if he does, he’ll never be able to find it again, to ignore the itching of his skin and the lingering emptiness he can’t even name. There’s no naming emotions when he can’t even _feel_ them.

Well, he does, but Alec can’t tell the difference between feeling and just _being._

With his tie moving in the wind, Alec closes his eyes, reaching into his pocket to take out the phone he conjured after giving Magnus his number. Even life beyond Earth knows of phones by now, considering everyone and their mother owns one.

It’s a blank device with one number, no wallpaper, no images or memories. Alec could almost laugh at how much he relates to a _fucking phone._ A machine, lifeless apart from the parts that keep it working to do task after task.

But this number, it’s something incredibly special. A connection. A person who sees him, talks to him, willing to be selfless for the better of his own people. Alec hasn’t met someone like that before, and he’s cursed with the knowledge that he might have _before._

Alec’s a fallen angel, can feel it in the way fire burns in his chest, how his rumoured wings still feel real beyond his reach and lost to the ashes; because there’s no denying that he was a person with a full name, a family, a _world_ he _lived_ in. It’s torture to physically know something is there, but he doesn’t know _what,_ and it’s killing him enough to realise he’s going to suffer through this alone.

This isn’t his world, not anymore, not when he’s plagued with no memories and ill curses. Thinking about what he could have been, _who_ he could have been-- it rips him apart more than the flames of Edom did. They’ve already done it once.

Alec doesn’t want to feel that again.

He is what he is, and there’s no changing that.

Clearing his throat, he taps the number, lifting the phone to his ear and listening to the dial tone.

A few seconds go by. _Beep beep beep._

Nothing. Magnus doesn’t pick up. It’s not like he _expected_ him to, but still, it would’ve been nice to hear someone’s voice again. There’s already a delicate line in their relationship, or whatever they have considering Magnus called him his enemy.

A challenge is always welcome, and for Alec, it’s only just begun.

He’s about to put the phone away when a message comes through, allowing Alec to see the first message where he saved Magnus’ number and then the new one just sent.

 

_BANE, 2 DAYS AGO, 23:23pm: [Bane here. This is my number. Emergencies only.]_

_BANE, TODAY, 12:05pm: [I’m busy.]_

 

Alec pokes his tongue to his teeth, holding the phone and wondering how much Magnus can take. Is he a man of patience or none at all? Either way, he’s going to have a little fun if Magnus asks for it or not.

 

\- - - - -

 

When his phone chimes in again, Magnus knows who it is. But still, he ignores it, smiling at his customer who smiles back.

“I can’t thank you enough, Magnus.” A sweet old lady clutches the potion in her hand, a remedy for her darling husband. “This means the world to us.”

Magnus simply smiles brighter, placing his hand on hers over the potion, “Let him take two sips, one in the morning and one at night, and he should be back on his feet in no time.”

As the woman goes to speak again, Magnus’ phone chimes as another text comes through, and the old lady seems to chuckle at how much it’s been ringing in the past few minutes.

“Someone really misses you,” she jokes, not missing how Magnus sighs.

“Unfortunately.”

The old lady isn’t quite sure how to take that, but she keeps smiling nonetheless.

When she reaches into her pocket for payment, Magnus insists that she doesn’t have to pay a penny. It’s the least he can do for the lady who feeds the cats on his balcony while he’s away on business trips. He’s never gone too long, but her neighbour is no stranger to the world Magnus lives in, and having her in his life gives Magnus a little bit of that mundane charm he loves so much.

Plus, it puts a smile on her face, so how can Magnus say no? They _both_ look after the cats that come to their apartment balconies.

She speaks her thanks once again, kissing Magnus on the cheek before steadily leaving the apartment. Only being a few doors down, Magnus doesn’t have to worry about the potion falling into the wrong hands, so he takes a deep breath.

Another customer will turn up soon, and this will be the last one of the day before he has to attend Pandemonium and sort some things out. He’s the owner of the most established nightclub in town, and even if he doesn’t get chance to visit very often, Magnus makes sure it’s running as fair as it possibly can.

But, as fate would have it, his phone rings again.

For a moment, he panics, thinking it’s possibly Catarina now or one of his friends in desperate need of help, but the name that greets him on the lock screen _doesn’t_ amuse him in the slightest.

 

_SWORDSMAN, TODAY, 12:07pm:_

_[I’m bored.]_

_[Entertain me a little, would you?]_

 

Magnus thumbs his reply quickly, maybe a little too quickly.

 

_BANE, 12:07pm: [Then go do something? You can literally teleport anywhere you want.]_

_SWORDSMAN: [Yes. But I’m on strict orders not to do anything ‘fun’.]_

_BANE: [Oh? Is admiring nature not good enough for you?]_

 

There’s a momentary pause, the chat bubble appearing as Alec’s typing, but Magnus doesn’t get chance to see his reply as the door rings.

Placing his phone down, he hears it chime as he walks away, welcoming his next client with a handshake. They’re a warlock, looking for some guidance about a certain spell they want to perform. Much to Magnus’ dismay, it’s about summoning a demon, and Alec’s red eyes paint themselves inside his mind, reminding him of his own demon on his shoulder at the moment.

“Why on earth do you need to summon a demon, young man?”

The warlock hesitates, but he readjusts his sleeves, allowing him to speak while his hands fidget from his nerves. “I need a demon that can take back my boyfriend’s nightmares. He’s gone through some… horrible things and he doesn’t want to remember them anymore. I would remove them myself but I-- I don’t know how.”

He must be young even if he’s the same height as Magnus. His features are rather smooth, and his voice is only somewhat deep. Asking Magnus for help in something so simple indicates to Magnus he doesn’t practice magic very much. Only the essential.

“Does he know you’re doing this?” because consent is important, no matter what.

“Yes,” the young warlock smiles. “I spoke to him about it.”

As Magnus turns around, leading him to his study, he continues speaking, “And it’s just the roots of his nightmares, nothing else?”

His phone chimes, _again._ Magnus swiftly ignores it, walking straight past it as the man replies to him.

“Correct, yes. Nothing but the nightmares.”

At least it’s not memories. That might be a sour subject right now, even for Magnus. With his recent summoning of Alec, there’s a lot of mystery he wants to uncover about him, specifically why information about him is so scarce to the point where Alec himself doesn’t even know of his past. It’s written there in the books that he was forced to forget, but as to why and if it’s even _true,_ only Alec can give him that answer.

It won’t be given to Magnus without a price, though. Magnus won’t be able to get anything out of Alec unless there’s something worthwhile for the demon himself.

Once they’re in the study, Magnus starts to collect the ingredients for the specific spell the man requires. He’ll need to teach him the words to recite as well as the specific way to do such a thing.

His boyfriend will need to be asleep, allowing the warlock here to move through the active images in his thoughts in order to unravel and collect the nightmares that weave themselves around his memories. It’s not too difficult of a spell, but there’s no need for a demon.

“Well, I have a solution for you, young man. There’s no need for a demon, as a few snowflakes from the highest peak will clear his mind of any nightmares. You’ll need to perform a spell, but there’s really no going wrong with it.”

At that, the warlock shifts on the spot, afraid that he’ll have to perform a spell when he’s not too comfortable with magic.

“There’s no consequence if it does go wrong?”

“No,” Magnus replies, bringing down the required jar of magically conserved snowflakes for him to hand over. “If you’re really uncomfortable about performing the spell, you can always come here and I’ll supervise. The spell will be doing the work for you, and those nightmares will be gone in no time.”

For a single beat in time, the young warlock seems more confident, but Magnus starts to feel this weight pushing down on his shoulders, an aura he’s felt before.

And then his voice appears, echoing as if it’s all around him, not specifically from where he stands.

“Nightmares? I can help with that.” Alec’s voice feels like a breath on the back of his neck, warm with goosebumps.

Magnus turns his attention to him, the demon leaning casually against the entrance to the study. He’s smiling, shifting his gaze from Magnus to the young warlock and squinting.

“Don’t worry, I’m _behaving.”_ He takes a few steps forward, looking down at the smaller man as he comes to stand beside him. Only now can Magnus see that the warlock is confused, wondering why Magnus looks so lost. “He can’t see me.”

Really, what did Magnus expect when he agreed to work with a greater demon?

“What’s your name darling?” asks Magnus, trying to stay nonchalant, smile forced.

“Anthony,” the warlock replies, giving a bright smile, “my name is Anthony.”

“Please excuse me for a moment, Anthony. I need to make an urgent phone call, I won’t be long.” Magnus turns around, facing Alec, glaring until he understands the message that he needs to _move,_ to leave the room so they can have a conversation in private.

“An urgent phone call? How intriguing,” he says, following behind.

Magnus is _extremely close_ to cancelling this gig right now. If it gets the annoying but enticing voice out of his head from the devil on his shoulder, there seems no better peace right now.

He opens the door to his spare room with magic, even though they're not there yet, and Alec can't help himself as he walks inside the room Magnus has allocated for them to _talk._

“Ah, I’ve missed you too, Bane,” jokes Alec, looking around the room and pursing his lip at a rather oddly named book he sees on one of the shelves. “The world is astoundly boring without you.”

 _“What are you doing here?”_ whispers Magnus, almost speaking through clenched teeth, but Magnus keeps his cool, not wanting Alec to get _anything_ out of this.

Alec is aware he’s being annoying, breaking a rule that Magnus doesn’t want casual conversation unless it’s something to do with the _mission._ It’s hard for Alec to follow such rules, especially when breaking them is just part of his blood, and the fact that Magnus is so _god damn handsome_ he struggles to find any mundane worth speaking to except him. He’s not even allowed to do that anyway.

So if anything, it’s Magnus’ fault that he’s here. That’s the excuse Alec will gladly use.

 _“Why are we whispering?”_ Alec looks over his shoulder. “He can’t hear us.”

“Are you going to listen to me?” says Magnus, questioning him.

Perhaps that was a bad idea. He’s just giving Alec more room to string this out into something worthwhile, something _entertaining._

“Hmm,” ponders Alec, looking around again, “I don’t know, should I? Considering you never answered my texts.”

“I don't have time for this.” He's about to turn around, but Alec is holding up his phone, showing Magnus the texts.

 

_SWORDSMAN: [I find you much more intriguing. I admit the world is beautiful, but have you seen yourself?]_

_SWORDSMAN: [At least don’t ignore me. It’s your own fault for banning me from talking to mundanes. They have awfully long conversations I can smile and nod to, and therefore I wouldn’t have to keep texting you.]_

 

When Magnus looks back to Alec, having read the texts, Alec lowers his phone back into his pocket. “I'd at least like a _little_ conversation here and there. Being blanked is rather rude of you.”

“Oh? Is that _rude?”_

Alec smiles, devilish charm apparent, but it falls as Magnus raises his hand, thrusting it forward in one continuous motion that shouldn't be labelled anything but flawless.

Magic pushes against Alec's chest, sending him back, clinging to his clothes as the _thump_ from the impact against the wall bellows, a picture frame falling down and breaking as the glass shatters.

He doesn't even get chance to recover, almost hung by the red tendril of magic wrapped around his neck. It’s stapling him to the wall, and Alec has to take deep breaths, a little shaken by how forceful Magnus’ magic is.

It’s warm against his neck, and Alec can feel the hum of its powerful nature, how tightly it holds him. Alec reaches up, steam rising from his fingers as he makes contact with the magic, trying to snap the magical string, but there’s no budge, no sign of the magic weakening as Magnus keeps two fingers extended towards him.

“Are you listening _now?”_ A simple question, one that Alec answers with the tip of his smile.

Taking the silence as a clear answer to move forward, Magnus speaks up again, wanting to keep this quick. There’s no doubt Anthony heard Alec colliding with the wall.

“I explicitly said you aren’t allowed to just _show up_ here. I have a job to do, and I don’t want you risking this whole operation by magically showing up and forgetting to glamour yourself.”

Alec squints at him, “I’m not clumsy when it comes to things like this, Bane. I can assure you, I’m _very_ thorough.”

Magnus takes a beat to process that, watching how Alec’s smile curves that bit more. Is he _still_ trying to flirt when he’s pinned to a wall?

And now that he thinks about it, Magnus really asked for that image.

“There’s nothing for you to gain, Alec. You’re here to do a job and do it when I ask you to, not when you’re bored, wanting to interfere with my job and find any way you can to annoy me so I just eventually give you the freedom you want.”

He’s tempted to squeeze the tendril of magic, but such pain isn’t in Magnus’ nature, not when Alec hasn’t warranted such actions. Magnus doesn’t know what caused Alec’s downfall, and the less he knows, the better. Frankly, Magnus can’t care for it as long as Alec does what he’s meant to do.

“Then what task do you have for me? I’m not a patient man,” replies Alec, tugging at the magic that holds him to the wall, but it still doesn’t budge. “As much as I love the polluted air of the city, I’d rather be doing something a bit more _fun.”_

“Your idea of _fun_ is vastly different from mine,” and with one movement of his extended fingers, the tendril breaks, Alec trying to visibly keep his cool as he steps away from the wall, “so take this as a warning.”

Alec lifts his hand to soothe the skin of his neck, feeling the remnants of the warm magic that held him there. He takes a deep breath, allowing the cool air to soothe the constriction he felt after the initial impact.

“I’m sure it’s not that much different, Bane.”

“Well, unfortunately for you, I’m a busy man with no time for lost souls.” And that’s a lie, Alec can see that, Magnus feels it himself, the words not feeling right on his tongue. “So, please do me a favour and leave me to deal with my last client of the day.”

“And then what?” He’s persistent. Magnus will give him that.

Sighing, Magnus turns around, heading towards the door of his study. “I own a club. A respected, adored and lively club for Downworlders and mundanes.”

“A club? And you said our versions of fun are very different.” Alec speaks as if it’s a matter of fact, placing his hands into his pockets as Magnus turns around again.

 _God_ , _does he ever stop talking?_

“I’m there for _business,_ not to party and indulge,” replies Magnus, gesturing to himself as he speaks, “and there’s nothing in common between you and me. There won’t ever be, Alec, and the more you try to change that, the more I’ll be tempted by the idea of sending you back to Edom.”

Well, there’s no being more blunt than that. Alec’s face drops, one to an expression of mild defeat, pursing his lips, looking away so Magnus can’t burn his gaze into him directly. Magnus almost thinks he’s won, that Alec will step down and finally see that there’s no skipping around rules to make it more beneficial for _him._

“I wouldn’t be here if the rules you set didn’t confine me. I walk through these streets wanting to talk to people, have conversations I haven’t had for as long as I can remember. If I wanted to break your rules, don’t you think I would’ve done so back there?” Alec has a point, one Magnus doesn’t want to admit to being right. “When you said I’m not to contact you without information regarding the mission you’ve set out, do you really think I’d just stay away? You’re the only person who knows I’m here, and you’ve explicitly banned me from interacting with the world apart from _you.”_

Alec takes a step forward, then another, removing one hand from his pockets so he can gesture towards Magnus.

“If anything, I’m your dirty little secret,” and Alec flicks his eyes down to Magnus’ lips for a second, then back up when Magnus doesn’t seem to move, “which means, what _does_ happen, stays between us. I have the ability to make people forget, to only be visible to eyes that desire to see me.”

“I don’t desire anything of you. You’re here for a deal, and that’s final.”

“And what? I’m not on about the deal, I’m on about _me_ and my wish to have a little more freedom. In no way do I want to make this a headache, neither for you or me. Because when this deal is over, and all the bad guys are safely tucked in whatever dimension of hell I send them to, I don’t want to be running from the angels and their glorious gang of ants.”

“I’ve told you this already, we’ll sort that part out when it comes to it.” Magnus doesn’t know why Alec keeps pushing this, but there must be a reason why. “Allowing yourself to be seen by anyone other than me is going to make our lives miserable, and it’ll make the mission more difficult.”

“I’m not asking for a new life, Bane, I’m asking for-- _something.”_ Alec shakes his head, biting his tongue because he almost said words he shouldn’t. He can’t give in to Magnus, to show a slither of weakness.

“What’s to say that something won’t grow into more? That whatever you decide to do becomes a danger to our deal, to me, or your future if it comes to it?”

Magnus questions him carefully, doesn’t miss how Alec’s eyes rest on his face, expression softening as he speaks, almost listening to every word as if it’s the last Alec will ever hear. There’s something there, waiting to break free of the iron cage he’s been forged inside.

And as quick as it appeared, it’s gone. A sly smirk curves his lips, tilting his head, “I can control myself. I promise to be a good sidekick.”

“I truly doubt that,” scoffs Magnus, “considering you’re here, distracting me from helping a person in need because you’re _bored.”_

“I offered to help,” argues Alec, putting his hand back into his pocket. “Is that not a good thing to do?”

“And what were you going to charge him?” He’s quick in his reply, catching Alec without a valid response.

In fact, Alec doesn't have one to begin with, simply shrugging his shoulders, “Not sure. But removing nightmares is pretty expensive.”

Rolling his eyes, Magnus turns away, muttering ‘ _unbelievable’_ under his breath. Alec hears it, but doesn’t decide to move until Magnus reaches for the door.

Just as he’s pulling it open, the door shuts again from Alec’s hand over Magnus’ shoulder as he stands behind him, respecting Magnus’ space even if he’s trying to be intimidating.

“I want to enjoy my time here while it lasts,” Alec says, removing his hand from the door when Magnus turns around. This is probably the closest they’ve been. “As much as our deal says you’ll give me freedom, I doubt you’ll grant me that wish when the time arrives.”

“I am a man of my word,” replies Magnus, keeping his voice down as Alec whispers back.

“No man is, Bane,” he raises his head just a little, looking down at Magnus, “not even you.”

“Not even _me?”_ Magnus shakes his head, hand to his chest. “If you really believe I am a man not worthy of my legacy, then please stand in the very long line of other people that agree with you. I’m more of a man than you’ll ever be, Alec.”

“Then let me prove you wrong.” Alec’s quick, snapping his reply before Magnus can even finish his sentence. Alec is determined to get a little payment for himself out of this, and if it’s not from Magnus, he’ll find it in something or someone else. “Let me prove to you I’m more than my blood.”

How can Alec say that to him when he denied such a statement in the first place? If blood doesn’t define a person, why does Alec think it defines _him?_

Perhaps he’s trying to twist his own words to work himself into Magnus’ good books, to play on his previous views so that there’s some way he can get what he wants. That’s a reach, of course, because Alec’s eyes search his face like he’s lost, wanting any hints to what Magnus thinks of his proposition.

And his eyes fall to Magnus’ lips, as if his answers lay there, but he’s quick to look back up to Magnus’ eyes, knowing that the Prince won’t see him as anything but the blood than runs through his veins. He hasn’t done anything to warrant Magnus’ interest, and considering how taut he’s already pulling the rules, there’s absolutely no reason for Magnus to grant his request.

But, why does Magnus feel cold in saying no to him, to deny that second swing at fate? There’s so many layers to Alec unfolding already, but all the pages are blank, and he’s stuck between following his gut and following his shattered, old and bruised heart. Neither of them give any answers, only hints at what he could say, and eventually, Magnus reaches for the cold words that string together on his tongue.

“As much as I am a man to give people second chances, I didn’t summon you here so you could redeem yourself. You’re here for a mission, and that’s all.” Magnus doesn’t welcome the hardened expression on Alec’s face as much as he thought he would. “I do my part, and you do yours.”

For a moment, Magnus watches the red of Alec’s eyes burn more intense, cooling to the usual deep red as Alec clenches his fist in his pocket.

“Like I said,” and he hates to say this, he really does, “I truly doubt you can control yourself. It’s specifically why I placed these rules into the deal.”

“Can’t control myself?”

“Who is to say the first sin you feed on won’t become another? What if your demonic powers influence _me_ overtime? These are risks I can’t take, especially not as a leader.”

Silence. Nothing follows those words.

Until Alec laughs, running his tongue along his bottom lip.

“I’m impressed, Bane. Not even my puppy eyes and careful words can persuade you?” Something doesn’t sound right in the way he’s speaking, stepping back and finally letting Magnus breathe.

“You should have more respect for me, considering I’m not only the person who has you under contract, but the _Prince_ of your realm. There’s no need for me to keep you here if such a  time arrives.”

“Don’t lie to yourself. You _need_ me,” Alec almost hisses when he says that, smirking as he adjusts the top button of his suit shirt, “as much as that pretty brain of yours can figure things out, you wouldn’t have summoned me if you weren’t desperate for this to end.”

“Keep telling yourself that, Alec. Perhaps it’ll help you sleep at night.”

 _“Oh my,”_ Alec clicks his tongue, tapping his finger against his temple, “am I getting to you that easily?”

“No,” Magnus blanks him, turning towards the door again, “you’ll know if you have.”

“And what will warn me of that?” inquires Alec, leaning a little forward.

Cold in tone, Magnus doesn’t look over his shoulder as he replies, “Nothing.”

And the door slams shut, leaving Alec to the chilling silence of the room. Only then does his face fall, away from the eyes of Magnus, to which he sighs and shakes his head.

His chest hurts, stinging almost as Alec pushes his hand to the surface, rubbing as if he has something stuck there. What is this?

_What is this I’m meant to be feeling?_

Alec looks at the door, hearing the muffled talk behind it, small laughter and the bubbly nature of casual conversation. He’ll have to find another way to get through to Magnus, one that might cost him more than he can afford.

With one last glance to the room around him, Alec fades to ash and embers, leaving Magnus’ apartment without a goodbye.

Magnus can sense him shift through his wards, and for a moment, he looks back to the door of his spare room, an inkling of regret beginning to form somewhere in the way he clenches his one hand.

“Is everything alright, Magnus?” the young warlock asks, adjusting his small bag filled with ingredients and notes that he’s been given for the removal of his boyfriend’s nightmares.

“Yes, of course,” he turns back to the younger man, smiling, gesturing towards his front door, “just have a lot going on right now, more than I bargained for.”

Sighing at that, Anthony walks beside Magnus as he leads him to the front door. “I’m sure if anyone can get through it, it’s you!”

Magnus doesn’t reply to that, allowing Anthony to leave as Magnus speaks his thanks to him. It’s only when the doors shut does Magnus take a deep breath that actually feels like he’s breathing, placing his hand against the door.

“I wish I believed that.”

 

\- - - - -

 

Another two days pass. Magnus hasn’t contacted Alec, and Alec hasn’t contacted him.

It seems the words Magnus spoke have finally taken effect, and even though he’s relieved, it also worries Magnus that Alec is doing something without his knowledge, secretly breaking the deal behind his back even though he’d _know_ if that happened.

There’s a way around it, every demon knows how to trick their way into things, and Alec should be no exception.

Another waiter hands him a drink, and with his phone in his hand, hovering over Alec’s number with his thumb, Magnus debates with himself. There’s something about what Alec said that’s been bothering him ever since his last client left that day.

It’s now his third night in a row that he’s attended Pandemonium. The first night was purely for business as he explained to Alec, but the other two are simply for enjoyment.

Perhaps it’s the sweet taste of the alcohol numbing his worry about the world, or the fact that he hasn’t had a break in over a month when he rightfully deserves one. But there’s also a voice that speaks back to him when he tries to prove himself otherwise, that this is to take his mind off Alec, the egging questions that keep popping up.

Magnus can’t place his finger on the word, but it’s confusing to feel so many jaded emotions and ask so many unstable questions. Alec isn’t someone to fix, because he truly doubts there’ll be a way for Magnus to even break between his lost humanity and demonic nature.

A balance is needed, and if those weighing scales tip one way or the other, it might prove disastrous, and Magnus can’t afford to deal with that when his people and the future of the Downworld is on the line.

There’s no harm in trying, not when there’s a small window open for him to try something.

Before he can talk himself out of it, Magnus is texting him, straight to the point with his words. He won’t say exactly why he’s summoning him here, because Alec might trick his way into a game Magnus doesn’t want to play.

 

_BANE, 21:01pm: [Pandemonium.]_

_BANE: [I need you for a task.]_

 

There’s no reply, but Magnus can feel his power shift closer, burning through the wards that surround the building of Pandemonium itself.

It’s almost as if Alec was waiting for him, phone in his hand, patiently watching the clock tick down until Magnus would send him another message. After their argument - or _whatever_ that was - Magnus didn’t expect Alec to be so cooperative, but he must have hit some sort of nerve to get a response this quick.

Or perhaps, Magnus is reaching for answers because he doesn’t believe his own. Alec is either appearing to reduce his chances of Magnus sending him back to Edom, or he has a bone to pick with Magnus and was simply waiting for the time he’d summon him again.

Either way, he’s here. Putting his phone away, he drinks the rest of the alcohol, placing the empty glass onto the table in front of them, leaning back once more as he waits.

Every second that ticks by is one step closer between Magnus and Alec. And that may mean something more in itself.

 

\- - - - -

 

The bouncer is letting people in one by one, but Alec can easily phase through the wall, leaving embers that flicker to ash as he forms back onto the other side.

A DJ stands on a large, raised platform, a crowd of eager fans jumping as the build up drops, and the wild bass rocks the building itself. It’s not loud enough to make it hard to talk, but it’s loud enough that people that intend to get lost, can do so.

Alec looks around, red eyes reflecting brighter in the darker parts of the club when the spotlights move past him. There’s so much potential here for Alec to screw up, temptation like a carrot on the end of a stick.

But he’s still glamoured, moving past bodies that move against each other, clinking glasses, couples and complete strangers locking lips, and hands holding on. If anything, this is a feeding ground for demons, but Alec isn’t here for this.

He’s here for Magnus.

Alec can hear up to 100 heartbeats, probably more if he was focused on that, but there’s an easier way to find Magnus.

So, he closes his eyes, feels the burn of his eyes changing, opening them to the world again. They’re completely black, allowing him to see a different vision, one where desires, wishes and nightmares live, the wisps and trails like scent to a wolf hunting their prey.

And the most potent thing he can see is this golden glow, a pulse from his heartbeat shifting the lines ever so slightly, embers burning around the silhouette. Blinking, Alec returns his vision to normal, and he starts to head in the direction of the power source.

When the last person moves, slinking past them with silent feet, his eyes land on Magnus. Alec feels his chest go numb, taking it all in.

He’s just sitting there, casually leaning back into the arms of people that are sitting beside him. In fact, there’s a whole group around him, having conversation and sipping their drinks with various percentages of alcohol.

Downworlders ranging from vampires to seelies sit along the golden sofa, some simply staring out as if they own the building. Lights whip past them, twirling around the expanse of the building, creating an atmosphere that's hypnotic, the heavy _thump thump thump_ of bass combining with it as hands reach into the air, bodies close and sweat clinging to skin.

It paints a perfect picture, a world far away from life outside, a hidden oasis of endless dreams.

Pandemonium; a haven for people of the night, of demon blood and those few mundanes that indulge in the secret world.

Alec, for one, is _struggling_ to stop the itch he feels beneath his skin, the various sins that hang in the air simply waiting for him to grasp, to feast on. Magnus is aware of this, even if he can’t see what Alec can.

It's even more difficult when Magnus refuses to look elsewhere except Alec, a hope of change becoming ill inside Alec's gut. He's playing right into Magnus’ game when he's meant to be playing his own.

There’s a certain power to how Magnus lifts his head, beckoning Alec closer, and if Alec was any part mundane, he’d probably get on one knee and bow to him. Alec doesn’t, but there’s no denying his wobbly knees wanting to fall so he can replicate the darling image in his head.

Magnus is the _King_ of this castle. Alec is merely a knight.

“You called,” says Alec, speaking up over the pulse of the music.

“And you answered,” replies Magnus, the people around him too interested in something else to bother why he’s talking to thin air.

“I told you I would.” He looks down at his feet, then back up: “No price.”

“I didn’t summon you here for that:” Handing his drink to someone else beside him, Magnus uses that hand to gesture Alec closer, “Come here. I don’t want to be shouting at you.”

Alec does as he’s told. He moves around to the back of the sofa, taking his hands out of his pockets so he can move down and speak in a normal tone of voice.

“I’ll be honest, I didn’t expect you to summon me after my behaviour two days ago.”

Alec is practically speaking directly into Magnus’ ear, leaning his elbows on the spine of the sofa. The soft yet deep tone of his words make Magnus turn into him, looking to the hands that hover just next to him, clasped loosely together. He still has the rings on his fingers from when Magnus summoned him.

“I thought about what you said,” starts Magnus, looking to the crowd even though his head tilts towards Alec. “If you really want to prove you’re capable of control, of wanting to be more, you’ll survive a night here.”

“Aren’t we meant to be working?” Alec takes interest in a mundane that walks past, but starts frowning the moment that very mundane seems to take note of Magnus.

“I _am_ working. I own this place.”

“I don’t see how _this_ is _working.”_ Alec curls his tongue on that last word, turning his head to Magnus, almost close enough to brush his lips against Magnus’ ear. “The last time you spoke to me about this place, you spoke of business. What you’re doing-- that’s _indulging.”_

“And am I not allowed to do that?” Leaning his head back onto the spine, Magnus can just about see Alec’s face in his peripheral.

“I’m not,” he states, looking to the crowd again and the various smiles, the alcohol being poured, “but if we’re partners, we share the same rules. The whole reason I’m here is for a mission, Bane, and bringing me here to test my patience is a smart move, but not exactly protocol.”

For once, Magnus smiles because of Alec, but it’s not for him. It’s for his own amusement.

But as Magnus is about to reply, Alec is speaking again, voice somewhat quieter than before.

“Or _did_ you bring me here for a mission?” The matter of fact tone he uses makes Magnus question it, raising his head to survey the crowd. Alec is still as stone beside him, eyes caught on something.

“What is it?” he asks, crossing one leg over the other, thumb playing with one of his rings, rolling it around his finger.

Alec doesn’t answer straight away, but the stern expression and slight squint of his eyes tells Magnus that he’s focused, almost provoked by whatever or _whoever_ just turned up.

“Shadowhunters,” Alec nods his head towards where he can see them, “bar, west side.”

Magnus follows Alec’s worded guidance, and alas, his eyes land on two Shadowhunters, dressed in black from head to toe like Alec. However, they stick out like a sore thumb compared to the various colours of the club, the lights constantly changing as confetti shines, spinning through the air until it makes contact with the floor.

“They’re not meant to be here, are they?” concludes Alec, squeezing his hands tighter together.

“No, they aren’t,” confirming Alec’s thoughts, Magnus continues, “my bouncers don’t let them in. They must have some sort of Clave clearance in order to get past, and that’s something I wasn’t informed of.”

He can’t have one night of freedom, one night where he can give Alec that chance to try and prove Magnus wrong. Alas, perhaps there’s another way that can end up working.

Magnus is now starting the first task of a much longer, draining mission to end Valentine’s poisonous reign.

“Remember when you spoke of your powers?” begins Magnus, and Alec turns to him, looking at him, focused. “How you said you can make people forget?”

Alec nods, already connecting the dots.

“Find out why they’re here.”

And the weight of that task suddenly feels _freeing._

“You’re allowing me to show myself?” Alec’s shocked, to say the least. His small victory doesn’t last for long, though.

“Our deal terms still stand. Find out why they’re here, and then make them forget you even asked. It’ll be like nothing ever happened. We can’t stop them from doing their duty, or the Clave will grow even more suspicious of me and my lack of cooperation in the next coming days.”

As Magnus speaks, Alec is already walking back around the edge of the sofa, coming to stand beside Magnus, both of them focusing on the Shadowhunters that are doing their best to blend in. They’re awful at it.

And as much as Alec hates this task, to force someone to forget, a small moment of being _alive_ will give him enough motivation to keep fighting for another chance. If he proves himself here, Magnus won’t shy away from including him in more tasks that require him to get a bit _hands on._

“How easy would this be for you?” Magnus questions him, intrigued by how far his powers go. Curiosity killed the cat, and thankfully, Magnus isn’t one.

Alec smiles, and it grows when he speaks, “Easy enough. I only have eyes for men, and it seems the Shadowhunter shares the same.”

He’s about to let him go, but there’s something he’s forgotten.

“Oh, here. You’ll need to hide those eyes, and I’ve gathered you can’t do that yourself.” Magnus waits until Alec looks at him before clicking his fingers, a blanket of magic moving over the surface of that demonic, warm red.

It feels-- _odd._ Alec can’t find a name for it, but as the seconds go by, and Alec blinks with his newfound hazel eyes, there’s no irritation or a sign that it’s not the correct _fit._

“Well guessed,” he replies, not missing how Magnus seems to linger a bit too long on his eyes before looking away again, “and I’ll have to be quick. Glamours don’t last long on my eyes. I’d know.”

Magnus decides not to push more about that, allowing Alec to drop his overall glamour, folding the ends of his black suit shirt so they sit on his biceps.

“Remember, you’re not to harm them. Only find out why they’re here. Shadowhunters never turn up here unless there’s a reason for it, and it can’t be a coincidence after me denying to summon you.” And then he’s looking back to Alec, how he’s already scanning the various people around him. “So, I guess you can enjoy the fun while it lasts.”

“And where do I question him? I don't suppose he'll answer questions so freely out in the open.”

Magnus points beside him, towards the corner of the club beside them, “There are private rooms for people to get away from the music if need be. Use one of those.”

“If you’ll excuse me, then,” Alec clears his throat, inhaling the mix of alcohol and various branded fragrances, “I’ll be enjoying every second I possibly can-- for the mission, of course.”

Magnus watches him leave, but Alec doesn’t stray too far, his eyes surveying the various mundanes and Downworlders alike. He’s not doing what Magnus expected him to do, but he’s mingling with people, smiling at them with the devilish charm he possesses, numerous men touching his arm and getting a little close.

And from where he sits, Magnus realises Alec is staying close on purpose, because he looks back to him, red eyes _daring_ as the spotlights shine over him, reflecting back to Magnus even through the glamour _,_ inviting him to take that one step closer to insanity.

Alec places a hand on one of the mundanes shoulders, leaning in and making sure not to make contact with his skin. But then he’s kissing him when the mundane moves in, once, twice and then again as the music builds up. The entire time, he’s looking at Magnus, a little smirk curving his lips as magic keeps the mundane safe, but it’s failing quick. He doesn’t stay long, pulling away as the mundane chases, but Alec lets them down easy, patting his chest and whispering something Magnus can’t hear over the loud bass of the music.

He swears he sees a flicker of regret, almost _confusion_ on Alec’s face. Magnus isn’t even sure if he really saw it.

Frowning, Magnus doesn’t break away from Alec’s gaze when he looks back to him, as if to say; _that’s not the mission._

And on cue, as if nothing ever happened, Alec winks back at him, leaving the mundane reaching for him as he slinks back into the shadows.

That mundane must have been seconds away from whatever curse Alec lives with.

One more glance to Magnus, almost looking through him, before Alec is walking to the bar, slipping through the crowd with ease as if he’s done this before. At least he’s focusing on the mission, somewhat.

Magnus gets up, much to the dismay of his group of people, keeping his eye on Alec as he gently moves aside people so he can get past. Walking up the stairs to the upper floor, a drink waits for Magnus via a server, and Magnus thanks them with a nod as he leans over the barrier.

He can see Alec clearly from here, how his black dress shirt looks just as good as it does up close, a little _shocked_ that Alec actually seems to be following an order from Magnus. Granted, Alec didn’t do it straight away if the kiss with the mundane is anything to go by, but he’s keeping his end of the deal. He didn’t hurt them, only lingered long enough to get a small smile out of it, no feeding on sins or desires. Magnus imagines it’d probably look different to that.

Alec is appreciating the feeling of someone seeing him, interacting with him other than Magnus. But in a way, he doesn't want to at the same time. The risks are too high for such little reward.

With those thoughts aside, Alec finally reaches the Shadowhunters at the bar, leaning onto the side as he pretends to order himself a drink.

Well, at least the Shadowhunter beside him isn't an idiot, and Alec is right, _annoyingly._

The guy takes interest, looking at Alec and turning to him as he sips his drink. And as he watches his lips move, he can only _imagine_ how giddy Alec feels. The attention must be amazing for him, and there’s a tingle of _something_ inside Magnus’ chest that tugs at his heart.

It feels odd, to say the least.

Magnus can lip read, but there’s magic available for him. With a click of his finger and thumb, he can hear the conversation in his thoughts as if it’s next to him.

_“I haven’t met many Shadowhunters before, especially not in a place such as this.”_

_“Oh? I’m expanding my horizons,”_ and Magnus can see the Shadowhunter smirk. Alec has an opening.

 _“How interesting.”_ Alec’s accepts his ordered drink, lifting it to his lips and speaking again before taking a sip, _“Care to explain?”_

That’s enough.

Magnus cuts off the connection, deciding it’s enough to watch from a distance as Alec downs his entire glass of alcohol. The Shadowhunter is more than impressed, and he’s standing up before Alec can even put the glass down.

Good. It’s working. The plan is working.

The Shadowhunter says something to his partner, which gives Magnus his cue to go and ask the now lonely Shadowhunter some questions himself. But he’s drawn to Alec, watching as he leads the man away, careful not to make exact contact as they shift through the crowd and towards the private room where Magnus said Alec could question him in privacy.

As Alec leads the man to the private room, Magnus down his own glass, making his way down the stairs to speak to the lady who seems rather upset now that she’s alone.

Magnus puts on his best smile, voice chirpy, laced with the excitement and thrill behind him as the music of the DJ grows louder.

“Excuse me, miss, I don’t think I’ve seen you here before,” tapping the side of his neck, Magnus indicates the rune drawn over the side of her neck, “Shadowhunters never come here unless they’re here to be a nuisance, no offence.”

“Oh-- _oh_ you’re _Magnus Bane,”_ she says, stuttering, a little nervous, “And none taken.”

“In the flesh.” Magnus holds his arms out, doing a little spin to show off his gorgeous, royal, red and black outfit as the necklaces swing with him, landing back onto the open skin of his chest. “Care to explain why you’re acting as such a big fan? Not that I mind, of course.”

She laughs, and her smile is beautiful. Magnus feels sorry that this is all a lie just to get some information. There’s no trusting Shadowhunters, not when they explicitly want him to summon Alec for their _greater good._

“I’m afraid that’s classified,” replies the lady, turning so her body faces Magnus, “I’m sorry.”

“No harm done, darling. I’m sure we can talk about other things while you’re here? It looks like you’re not exactly on duty.” Gesturing to the alcohol she’s drinking, Magnus remains standing until he asks for a place next to her, “May I join you? If that’s the case.”

“Of course, of course!” She gestures to the chair as well, Magnus sitting down as soon as he’s given the go to.

While Magnus is going to work on getting information out of this Shadowhunter, Alec is going to use his powers if this route fails.

He can only hope Alec doesn’t do what he thinks he’s going to do.

 

\- - - - -

 

Alec isn’t doing what Magnus thought he’d do. In fact, he’s staying far enough away that he doesn’t provoke the Shadowhunter to do anything. They simply smile at each other, the guy following Alec until the door closes behind him in the room.

“Gotta be honest,” the Shadowhunter starts, looking around the lushly decorated room before settling on Alec, the demon turning around to give him his attention, “I didn’t expect this to happen tonight.”

“You and me both, it seems.” Facing him directly, Alec places his hands behind his back, a stance that any soldier would have.

When the Shadowhunter makes his move towards Alec, Alec places a hand against his chest, brows furrowed.

“Who said I’m thinking what _you’re_ thinking?” Eyeing him, Alec gestures his head forward, the Shadowhunter understanding him as he steps back.

Alec is referencing Magnus’ willingness to let him do this, to actually _text_ him a mission that he needs help on. As for the Shadowhunter, Alec can see the demons that sit on his shoulder, the lust that hangs around him, how even without that Alec knows that he’s led the Shadowhunter here on false hope.

“What _are_ you thinking, then? Are you one of those that does the orders?” It’s really amusing how clueless, how heavy on Alec’s aura the Shadowhunter already is.

“I’m here to ask you questions.” Simple but sharp. Alec doesn’t see why he should stretch this out any longer than it needs to be. It’s not like he’s _allowed_ to have any fun.

“Questions? I thought you were--”

“No, I wasn’t. Well-- I _was_ but that was just so I could speak to you in private.” Alec speaks like that isn’t a problem at all.

“That’s a really shit move, dude. Do you pick up all your dates like this? Asking twenty questions before the first date?”

Oh, so he’s a cocky one. This just makes the mission a lot more annoying. Usually, Alec would love the back and forth, but right now, when he just wants Magnus to _accept_ that he can work with him and under his set rules, he can’t be bothered for something like this.

“No, actually. I don’t do dates, and I don’t do anything like that full stop.”

“So you’re a guy that does it once and moves on? No dating?”

 _“Dating?”_ Alec tilts his head, laughing at him. “What’s that? Some dumb mundane sport?”

And the Shadowhunter just blinks. “Are you being serious?”

Alec shrugs. “Why would I lie to you?”

He should probably tell him that he would, being a demon and all, but that’s Alec’s secret to keep and for the Shadowhunter to find out. The clock has already starting ticking, and it’s only a matter of time until the Shadowhunter will have to know the truth if this all goes wrong.

At first, the idea of seducing him to get some information seemed easy, but the curse at the back of his mind claws at bad memories that he doesn’t want to repeat.

So, this will have to do. Alec will use his sly words, his handsome smile, his magic.

“I don’t know, since you already have. I’m here because you want to ask questions and not for a quick fling?”

He’s not wrong, and Alec sighs a little sigh.

“Well done, you’ve figured it out! I’m here because I need to ask you questions about why Shadowhunters are in a Downworlder club.”

Alec’s words make the Shadowhunter flinch, hand lowering to grip the hilt of his sword, but when Alec doesn’t move, he raises his hand to gesture towards him.

“You can’t be asking questions like that. Especially not a _Downworlder.”_ He turns his nose up at Alec, and he really has the confidence to change his view just like _that._ Something must be afoot if they switch to soldier mode that quickly after flirting with the guy he’s now speaking down on.

“Oh? I specifically saw you look me up and down about ten minutes ago with the intent of something else. Do you speak down like that about every Downworlder? Or are you not able to _get any_ with your fellow Shadowhunters?” He’d move on and ask more about the reason he’s here, but Alec doesn’t like his tone right now.

He’s technically a Downworlder, too.

 _Magnus_ is a Downworlder. And he’s a Prince, royalty. Alec has to respect that, especially if he wants to stay in the mundane realm and not Edom.

“You--,” the Shadowhunter bites his tongue, Alec smirking, daring him to give Alec more fuel to his fire, “you can’t ask questions about official Shadowhunter business.”

“You’re in a club especially for Downworlders. Your presence here grants us the right to question _why_ when you’re not explicitly welcome. Is that clear, or do I need to explain decency to you?”

“And what decency does a _Downworlder_ have?” hisses the Shadowhunter, and Alec feels a switch flip inside him.

The room grows heavy, and the Shadowhunter feels it, pushing down on his shoulders as Alec loses the smirk. He’s frowning, now, keeping his glare on the man in front of him.

“Are you here for Magnus Bane?”

“I’m not answering your questions,” he says, looking to the door and then back to Alec, but when he does, his legs become stiff, unable to look away again. “It’s classified.”

“Magnus Bane is the owner of this club. He has a right to know why you’re here,” Alec replies, voice bold, authoritative, promptly ignoring what the Shadowhunter said before.

Scoffing, the Shadowhunter looks at his broad shoulders, the way he stands. “What are you? His _bodyguard?”_

Alec tips his head forward, squinting at him. “Not exactly, but that does have a nice ring to it.”

The Shadowhunter starts to walk forwards, intent on moving past him, but he can't. Alec simply places his hand to his chest, only using a small ounce of his strength to push him back, hard enough that he almost stumbles.

“I’m not done with you.”

“I am,” barks the Shadowhunter, reaching for his seraph blade, Alec watching as he pulls the hilt from his thigh holster, the blade shining bright with blue, angelic properties as it forms in front of Alec, “and this is your last warning.”

“All I want is for you to answer my questions, no need for anything to get violent,” despite his nonchalant approach, Alec can feel the black veins surface over the back of his hand, his demonic power bubbling to the surface at seeing the glow of the angels in front of him, “unless that’s what you’re hoping for?”

“Threatening me is against the accords. You have no right to speak to me in such a way.”

“And you do?” Alec replies, gesturing between himself and the Shadowhunter. “There’s not much difference between you and I.”

And the Shadowhunter _laughs,_ as if he can’t even begin to believe such a statement.

“What does some lousy Downworlder have over me?”

“That’s your first mistake, my friend,” Alec takes one step forward, the Shadowhunter nudging the blade towards him, a warning that Alec doesn’t accept, “I’m not a simple, lousy Downworlder.”

And there’s hesitation, a moment where the Shadowhunter blinks at him, looking him up and down to try and understand what he means. There’s no magic, no warlock mark, no seelie markings or signs of a vampiric nature.

If he’s not a Downworlder, then what is he?

That hesitation, however, is enough for Alec to strike.

He takes hold of the blade, feels the burn on his palm that does nothing but _tickle,_ snatching it from the warrior’s hand and bringing it to his other hand. And when he has it held by both ends, Alec _grunts,_ snapping the blade in half as if it’s absolutely nothing to him.

There’s not even a jolt of his body as he snapped the blade but eyes burned into the Shadowhunter as they bleed red, Magnus’ glamour not lasting when such heat from his demonic power rises to the surface.

“You-- you’re a _demon,”_ the Shadowhunter finally gets something right, and Alec smiles, his canines a little sharper than before. “How have you not appeared on our systems?”

“I’m good at my job, and I have friends in high places.” Alec throws the broken blade behind him, a sheen of blue magic phasing over the surface as the power fades, the delicate balance broken from its forge.

He takes a step back as Alec takes another one forward, and another until his back hits the wall. Those red eyes radiate an intimidating power, so heavy and gripping that the Shadowhunter can’t do anything but watch as he moves closer. His world blurs around him, his entire focus on Alec as demonic magic grows thick in the confines of the room.

Last time, it was natural charm that brought the Shadowhunter here, and until now, Alec has been wary of using his magic. But not anymore.

As the Shadowhunter squirms against the wall, Alec lifts his hand up to the Shadowhunters face, cupping his jaw as a magical glove moves over his skin, protecting them from the curse. And as Alec leans in, he lets the magic drain from his fingers into the Shadowhunter, black veins spreading from where Alec makes contact with his jaw.

“Now, I have strict orders, so you’re a lucky man, but that’s not to say I won’t break them if you don’t answer my question.”

The gulp is music to Alec’s ears, fueling his grin.

“Why are you here?” Nothing follows, and Alec clicks his tongue. It’ll be a few seconds until his magic kicks in. “Demon got your tongue?”

He’d laugh at his own joke, but the shake of the Shadowhunter’s head is more amusing to him. And just like ink to water, his magic sinks easily into the Shadowhunter’s body, reaching deep, breaking locks on sacred promises.

“On-- we’re here on _orders.”_

“What orders? And whose?” inquires Alec, wanting to keep the conversation flowing so the Shadowhunter doesn’t stutter from his nerves.

“The Clave,” finally, they’re getting somewhere, “but it’s just a regular scouting mission.”

“For what?” Alec tilts his head to the other side, “Keep going.”

“Information.” He’s being vague, but Alec can’t push his magic anymore. He can’t hurt him in any way, and being a royal asshole isn’t going to help him when it comes to Magnus.

“On Magnus?” It doesn’t take a genius to guess exactly why there are Shadowhunters in this specific club a few days after a denied summoning.

“Yes, _yes,”_ a deep breath, “Magnus Bane.”

At least his thoughts have been confirmed. What this means for Magnus, however, Alec has no idea yet, but he intends to find out. “Care to elaborate?”

Another hesitation, the Shadowhunter biting his lip as he rights himself, looking down to Alec’s lips and then back up again. He’s getting pretty drunk on Alec’s magic by now, no doubt. It makes it easier for answers, but not on Alec.

It pulls on him in a way he doesn’t understand.

“The Clave want to host a ball for Downworlders, and we’ve come here to gather intel. Like, favourite drinks, decor-- to adhere to the masses.”

Alec pushes the Shadowhunter back with a hand to his chest as he takes a step forward, Alec aware that he’s running out of time until his red eyes will drown him, and Alec might have to resort to something he doesn’t want to do.

“Why would the Clave order you to go to this specific club? If you’re here for Magnus Bane, then they’re looking for _his_ taste explicitly.”

And just like that, Alec answers his own question, and at the right time. The Shadowhunter reaches for Alec, eyes glassy, and Alec’s expression drops to one of regret.

He grips the Shadowhunters shirt, stopping him from making contact as Alec’s eyes bleed entirely red, calling on his power to make the Shadowhunter forget of this exchange-- of his _existence._

 _“You won’t remember any of this, from meeting me, to this conversation.”_ Alec bites his bottom lip, shaking his head, in denial of wanting to say the next few words, _“Forget me.”_

It takes a few seconds, but the Shadowhunters arms fall, hands inches away from his face. His eyes slowly close, falling asleep, body going limp. Alec’s hold on his shirt is the only thing keeping him standing, and Alec doesn’t want to just let him fall.

But the door opens behind him, Magnus walking in to the scene that _can’t possibly_ look good from an outsider's perspective.

Alec drops the Shadowhunter, hand still in the air before tucking it back into his jacket pocket.

“I have your information,” he says, not looking at the Shadowhunter, but at the wall.

“At a _price?”_ Magnus sounds infuriated, taking long strides until he’s standing next to Alec, leaning down to check the Shadowhunter’s pulse.

Alec demands the red of his eyes to fade back to their normal look, human except for the colour that remains.

“He’s simply asleep.” Turning around, Alec gives himself some distance between himself and the Shadowhunter that gave him a smile he wished he didn’t see, didn’t want to hold on to. “I made him forget, as was your wish. He’ll be fine in a few hours when my magic drains from his system.” He holds his jaw tight as he speaks, Magnus looking up to see the rise of Alec’s ears as he does so.

Magnus doesn’t want to push it, not when Alec is respecting his wish to focus on the mission and nothing more. “And what did you discover?”

“They love you apparently, enough to send various patrols to your club in order to acquire your tastes in decor.” He’s speaking away from Magnus, keeping his gaze elsewhere as Magnus stands back up.

“My decor?” says Magnus, taking a few steps closer towards Alec, but the demon doesn’t budge. “I didn’t manage to get anything out of his patrol partner, only vague jokes and rather interesting opinions of the Downworld.”

“Hmm,” Alec looks back to the sleeping Shadowhunter, something in his eyes Magnus can’t point a finger to, “they’re intending to win you over with a party of their own. More specifically, a ball.”

“That’s certainly a length they’re going to in order to win me over.” Magnus brushes down his shirt, giving the Shadowhunter one last check just incase Alec has done anything he didn’t catch the first time. “Any details on that?”

Alec shakes his head, but then realises Magnus isn’t looking at him. “No. Just the fact they’re planning some sort of ball.”

The pair stand in silence, tempted to look at eachother, but Alec eventually breaks the silence, inhaling deeply.

“Am I done here?” He’s rather sharp when he speaks, almost as if it’s a sour thought to think that is over already.

For Magnus, it isn’t easy to say yes, that they _are_ done here. Alec didn’t do anything to break the rules, even though he did tease and dance along the boundaries of their deal, he did the job. He got the information without hurting the Shadowhunter, but sure, he’ll have nightmares and a possible headache when he wakes up, but it’s better than any other alternative.

“Yes, we are.”

 _We,_ as in _both_ of them.

Alec finally looks at him, but it’s bitter when he turns away. “Very well,” he starts, “until next time, Bane, if there is one.”

And before Magnus can say anything else, Alec’s form dwindles to embers and ash, dancing around before disappearing completely.

Magnus is left with cold talons gripping his lungs, _squeezing_ until he takes a deep breath. He feels as if something is pulling him to where Alec once stood, and he’s momentarily caught in the fright of feeling _sorry_ for him.

Either way, Magnus has the information he needs and makes his way into the main room of the club again, leaving the Shadowhunter to wake up and piece together his own drunk adventures. He doesn't leave the broken blade their either, considering breaking one of those things is so easy a job, and having it there with a loss of memory is bound to give him reason to ask questions.

He finds himself bringing his phone out of his pocket, hovering over Alec’s number once more, but he locks the screen before his guilt can decide for him. Magnus will lose himself for a few hours and then head home.

Alec is here for a mission. He’s not here for Magnus to give him a second chance.

But why does he feel bad about it? He specifically called him here today in hopes there’d be some sort of clue to his past, that somewhere deep down he’s just a lost soul that was at the wrong place at the wrong time.

Magnus is no angel to give redemption, but perhaps there’s a chance that all those times he’s helped people, that very experience can help here. Alec is fallen, not broken, and even though he smiles like he’s got nothing to lose, Magnus can see a man screaming for help in silence, more than any other.

As much as he wants to deny that thought, it keeps bugging him, and it does until well into the small hours of the night, making him toss and turn in his golden sheets that feel awfully cold.

Before he knows it, he’s reaching for his phone, sitting up as Chairman Meow protests against his stomach. Threading his fingers through his fur, Magnus opens up the conversation with Alec, hoping that he’s awake to receive the message as soon as possible.

 

_BANE, 23:10: [There may be a place for you to be yourself, in that sense of the word.]_

 

To his surprise, the chat bubble pops up straight away. It’s as if Alec was about to do the same thing.

 

_SWORDSMAN: [And what sense are you speaking of? My demonic nature or my craving for a decent coffee?]_

_BANE: [Neither, although they might serve coffee. I’ve never ordered one myself.]_

_BANE: [Hunter’s Moon. I’m sending you the address right now.]_

 

Magnus has no idea why he smiles at the thought of Alec waiting in line to order coffee of all things.

 

_SWORDSMAN: [I actually hate coffee. I lied. I’ll check it out, though.]_

_BANE: [If I hear one complaint from my friend who owns the place, I won’t hesitate to keep my end of the deal.]_

_SWORDSMAN: [Yes, Bane. I’m aware.]_

_SWORDSMAN: [And let me get this straight. You’re allowing me to be seen at this location only? Nowhere else?]_

_BANE: [Correct. Take it as my thanks for your help today. I can’t grant you what you really want right now, but I’m not a person to deny a simple need to breathe.]_

 

The chat grows quiet, and Alec doesn’t respond straight away like he did previously. Magnus holds onto hope that he does, keeping the phone still as Chairman purrs under his affection.

A few more minutes pass until Alec replies.

 

_SWORDSMAN: [I appreciate that, Bane.]_

_SWORDSMAN: [I do believe that you've gone soft on me already. Did I do the job that well?]_

_BANE: [Don't make me regret my decision.]_

 

It's no thanks, but it's a start, and Magnus feels satisfied.

Alec is probably going to enjoy meeting Maia, because if anyone can help tame a wild soul, it's his good friend and favourite bartender. She's strong, independant, a future leader of her pack, and determined to believe the best in people.

If anything, Alec should be scared of her. She won't be afraid to kick his ass if he steps out of line.

He's about to lock his phone, wanting to fall asleep again, but Alec texts him back one last time. Magnus will leave his reply until he hears back from Maia herself.

 

_SWORDSMAN: [You won't.]_

 

_\- - - - -_

_'A night choir, animals that hunt while the sun hides away,_

_It's efficient, deadly._

_But the world can't see them, and if they shine, everyone sees them.'_

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> once again, thank you to my beta @Lakritzwolf!


	3. First Chance

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> struggled with this one, won't lie. it's a bit of a filler chapter, so sorry if it's a bit boring! this chapter and most of the content is reference to the old version of this fic as thanks to the previous readers, and you'll see what I mean when it gets to it! 
> 
> thank you for your continued support!
> 
> #ODSfic is the tag for this fic! {i love seeing your reactions!) song added to the playlist as per every chapter. I recently changed my twitter @ to @royalbane if you'd like to tag me directly!

_‘What is hope but false dreaming?_

_Is there a time where it feels real, or does it lie forever?_

_Perhaps only the holy know, and he is no holy man.’_

 

\- - - - -

 

Not needing sleep can be a nightmare in itself. With nowhere for Alec to go, perching on rooftops and sitting on lonely benches in the park doesn’t do anything for him. At least nothing healthy, nothing without questions and an extended period of time where he’s just waiting for the next thing to happen.

By now, if Magnus didn’t have him on a tight leash, he’d probably be concocting some sort of  mischief, as far as that word goes. Even if Magnus has banned him from any devilish ways, he can’t make contact with most of the world anyway, so the temptation would be even greater if he was allowed the room to _try._

Right now, he’s sat on a park bench, watching a man walk his dog late at night, almost ten. He’s yet to understand why hounds are so tame, especially when he’s met a few hellhounds himself along his journey and mindless exploration through the embers of Edom.

And then a pair of mundanes, holding hands as they walk past, their heads leaning against each other’s, a single pair of headphones shared between them. One of them seems to be miming something, making the other smile, and Alec feels sick all of a sudden.

Or at least, that’s what the heavy weight in his stomach feels like. He’s come across that before, the wrenching of blood from his lips when Edom forced his bones to mold, to shift into something new and monstrous.

Sitting here, he’s reminded how quiet the world actually is. How as time goes by, the world doesn’t stop, and Alec will see generations pass well into the future without having any influence. He’ll be a ghost until the end of time if Magnus’ plan falls through, and even though the silence up here is better than Edom’s constant firestorms, he’d trade anything for a good conversation.

So when Magnus texts him the location of a place where he can _be a little free,_ Alec jumps almost too quickly at the chance.

It takes seconds, teleporting himself outside the address.

He’s comforted with the warm, faded orange light, a steady buzz of noise from the various shops around him and a smell of takeaway food that makes his mouth a little dry. Alec is no human, so he needs almost no sustenance, but that doesn’t mean he can’t indulge in simplicity every now and then.

But he’s not here for food, he’s here for the _Hunter’s Moon,_ a bar nestled into a quiet street that’s obviously labelled for Downworlders if the werewolf illustrated on the sign is anything to go by. This could also be a trap, but Alec truly doubts Magnus would text him about this place if it wasn’t vital to the _mission._

Or, it’s nothing to do with the deal, and Magnus is doing it out of kindness like his texts say. But Alec doesn’t know what kindness is, only greed for his own gain, and so his instincts fall to that, and that only. He’s been played enough times not to fall into that mindset again, that somehow the angels will let him feel any emotion that he’s forgotten, mostly positive ones.

Alec takes two ticks to remind himself to strongly glamour the Soul Sword perched on his back, to roll his shoulders and discard his suit jacket with embers of magic. He keeps his suit shirt, undoes two buttons to look more casual and then makes his way inside, the bell above the door ringing along with the soft jazz playing from the jukebox in the corner.

Glasses clink together, a group of men cheering, obviously celebrating something that Alec could easily find out the context to. He doesn’t, of course, wanting to act as mundane as possible so that while doing whatever Magnus sent him here for, he’s not elegantly flaunting he’s a greater demon from Edom.

But his eyes, he can’t hide them, and they’re going to be hard to strictly lie about if anyone dares to ask him.

Alec finds himself in awe of the decorations, how _warm_ the atmosphere is, but Alec can’t tell the difference between warm and cold anyway. But he does know warmth when he sees it, and the fairy lights hung up on various screws and floral decorations make this pub seem more relaxed and friendly than old and just _doing its job._

There’s a sense of something here, and Alec once again can’t name it. For the first time, he wants to understand what it is.

Even as the music helps to bring it all together, there’s no doubt that this is all real, that there’s no foul play or magic helping to make the world seem a better place. Perhaps this is one of the few places Alec can truly feel a sense of peace even though the war inside his body rages on.

“What can I get you, stranger?” A voice pops up beside him, a lady with confidence weaved into her tone of words.

Alec turns to her, momentarily forgetting about his eyes, but the reaction of her freezing on the spot reminds Alec that they’re still very visible. She doesn’t seem bothered for too long, as she tilts her head, smiling.

“You must be the guy Magnus was on about.” She brings her hands together, giving Alec time to reply, as he seems a little awkward at someone talking to him without fear of his eyes or presence. Alec gives a quick smile, surprised that she didn’t react how he thought she would.

“And you must be Maia,” he replies, Maia nodding to confirm. “How did he describe me? An annoyance? Handsome?”

“Neither,” she laughs, quickly talking to her fellow employee to cover the rest of the bar while she talks to Alec. “If I remember correctly, it was something along the lines of _unbearable.”_

“Unbearable? I’ll have to text him about that,” Alec replies, sitting himself down at the furthest end of the bar round the corner, out of the main area where various Downworlders come up to order drinks from the smaller tables of the establishment. “Considering I’ve been following his rules.”

“I don’t know what’s going on between you two exactly, but it’s not my business. All he said was that you needed a place to stay for a while, somewhere so you wouldn’t sit in silence.”

_Oh._

Pausing for a moment, Alec looks to Maia, trying to catch her in a lie, but his powers don’t whisper back to him. She’s actually telling the truth. He has no idea why the thought of Magnus not wanting him to sit in silence is such a welcome one, and he finds himself smiling.

“I’m Alec, by the way,” Alec says, “But Magnus might have told you that, too.”

“Nice to meet you, Alec.” Maia gives another award winning smile, and Alec already feels comfortable here. “Downworlders only in this place, so you won’t have any Shadowhunters trying to ask where you got your contacts.”

Alec laughs, nodding, “Yeah, sure. It’s a nice place you’ve got here, real… ah, _shit._ I can’t think of the word for it.”

“Warm? Comfortable?” she throws out some guesses, and Alec wouldn’t even know if she’s hitting the mark.

“Warm? No, I would know. It’s just-- _different._ I feel as if I can stay here and not be confused.”

“That statement is confusing,” replies Maia, wiping a cloth along the bar just once to keep it clean, “You’re not familiar with mundane life, are you?”

Alec grows silent, adjusting his sleeves as he rolls them up.

“Not at all. I won’t be here long enough to find out, either, so I’m content with not knowing anything.” His magic can even catch his own lies, and that was certainly one of them.

“What makes you say that?” Maia has been friends with Magnus for as long as she can remember, and he’s the oldest person Maia has on her contact list. There’s not a bad bone in his body, and somehow Alec believes he’ll be gone as soon as Magnus is done with him.

He doesn’t say that explicitly, but it’s implied, especially when his eyes drop to the counter for a moment, debating existence.

“Bane is a busy man. Once my duty is done, he’ll have no need for a demon running free that will cause more harm than good.”

“You’re doing no harm right now.”

“Exactly,” Alec swallows. “Right now. The future’s not certain for that matter.”

Maia shrugs, gesturing around them, "I don't see you collecting souls or punishing the evil. You're the most mundane demon I've met, Alec."

He hums, looking at the various people inside the bar.

"No, but I could if I wanted to."

"But you’re not," Maia points to him, then to herself, "because I'd kick your ass."

Alec laughs again, smirking a little as Maia manages to hold herself back from laughing too. He's stunned by how _chill_ she's being with all of this, and he doesn't even know if _she_ knows what demon he is.

She can't see the Soul Sword, so Maia would have to ask either Magnus or Alec to the extent of his powers. He decides not to tease that he could do a lot more, even with the power circling beneath his skin wanting to do otherwise.

"What drink can I get you?" asks Maia, turning away so she can collect whatever he decides to order.

“Just water, please.”

“Only water? I expected a demon with taste.” Maia smirks, taking a clean glass and moving to the filtered water and ice machine.

How ironic. A demon with taste, but not being able to taste anything. Well, except that one time with Magnus when he summoned him. He’ll have to try that again at some time.

“The alcohol doesn’t work anyway,” Alec replies, trying to find an excuse, but Maia can hear the lie. Even Alec can’t lie thanks to the Soul Sword floating on his back. “I’ll let some poor soul get drunk for me instead.”

“Fair enough.” Maia doesn’t want to push it.

Tapping his fingers against the counter, there’s something bothering Alec, so much so that he waits for Maia to start walking back before speaking.

"Can I ask you a question, Maia?"

At first, she doesn't reply, quiet as she eyes him. Why would he want to ask permission for a question unless it's something personal?

"Sure, go ahead," she replies despite that worry.

“Why aren’t you scared of me?” Alec gets straight to the point, voice a little rough as he speaks.

 _“Should_ I have a reason to be scared of you?” Maia hands him his glass of water, allowing Alec to dwell on that question as he takes it from her hand.

"I'm a bad man." Alec licks his lips after taking a sip. "You shouldn't trust me."

Maia raises one brow in interest, looking at him as he looks back, "I can take care of myself."

"I have no doubt. I'm just saying, don’t get too attached." He’s cheeky as he smiles, taking another sip before placing the glass down. Maia chuckles at him.

There’s a slight crease in his brow, looking down to the glass he’s drinking from. Once again, he can’t taste anything, not even _water._ He’d curse under his breath, but he doesn’t want any sign that he’s having trouble or doubts about something.

Weakness is something Alec will never show, because he knows how that feels, to feel _hopeless_ and _beyond saving._

“All I’m saying is, is that the world is a scary place, Alec. It doesn’t matter if you’re angel or demon, fate treats us the same way even if we like it or not.”

“But one less evil soul is better than one more, is it not?” replies Alec, wanting to convince Maia that he’s better off gone than slowly turning the world sick if he stays here. Freedom or not, he’ll never be what he once was.

Edom is his home now, and the more he stays with mundanes, starts to learn their ways in every small way he can, he doubts he can truly understand them when he can’t understand the fundamentals of _being_ human; _emotions._

“That’s true, but then what if someone else comes along that’s even worse, taking your place? If Magnus has summoned you, it’s for a reason, and I _doubt_ he’d give you such freedom to spread your wings if he didn’t find _something_ to make you worthy of it. He’s a kind man, but he’s not stupid. Magnus is basically a god to us here, and if he trusts you, I don’t see why I shouldn’t.” Maia talks as if she’s certain, no hesitation in any word she speaks.

The wing comment _stings,_ it really does. Maia wouldn’t know that herself, the extent of what happened to Alec, but he still feels a slither of hatred towards such words. Alec’s rather taken back, a little stunned as he parts his lips, not sure what to say in return.

“He wouldn’t send you here without reason, to _my_ bar, Alec. There’s a reason why he did, and don’t you want to find out what that is?” Maia questions, tilting her head while wiping the cloth along the bar again.

“Is that your opinion? That you truly believe in me being a good person?” He shouldn’t reach for false truth, but he wants to.

“I didn’t say you’re a good person, I said you’re not a bad one. There’s been nothing for me to label you as such, and just because you’re a demon doesn’t mean anything. I have demon blood too, it’s who I am, and how I got to where I am now has been a long, difficult journey but I’ve made it. It’s not blood that defines you, it’s what you do, how you influence the world.”

Hearing it makes it sound so easy to understand, but there’s something inside Alec that shreds those words before they touch his resolve. Alec hasn’t felt hope since he fell to Edom, and even then, his hope was minimal, used as mockery.

He looks down to his glass, turning it around with the firm grip of his fingers.

 _That sounds like something Magnus would say,_ Alec starts to think, raising his gaze back to Maia. She’s smiling, and Alec nods, feeling the need to show her that he’s been listening, taking it in although his shattered soul refuses to hold onto it.

“That’s a smart saying,”  he finally replies, a clinking of glasses in the background as the song changes to an obvious favourite of many of the customers.

“Magnus told me that,” she replies, catching Alec’s little snort. “A few days after I first became a werewolf, the alpha of my pack, Luke, took me to see him. He’s been helping Downworlders for as long as I can remember.”

“He’s a god to the Downworld, but he still gives you freedom?”

Maia blinks. What happened to Alec for him to believe otherwise?

“Magnus doesn’t need to. He’s guidance, a shoulder to cry on, and wisdom when we need it most. He’s a man with power beyond any warlock I know, and yet he chooses to be a good man, doesn’t let greed twist him into something he doesn’t want to be.” Maia smiles at Alec, happy that he’s at least asking questions, because whatever reason he’s still here for, it’s for something beyond simple business. “If anything, the man rarely has a break for himself.”

Alec ponders that, wondering if there _is_ a deeper meaning for Magnus to keep Alec here even when Valentine is gone. It’s not a simple question, because Valentine stands no chance against a combined force of Magnus and Alec, but once that’s over, the deal is as good as done. Magnus already hates the Clave, and he can campaign for a brighter future without a demon by his side. At least, that’s what Alec thinks.

Maybe Maia is right, but Alec doesn’t want to believe in such a mundane thing as hope. It’s not that he can, anyway.

“I’m focused on staying alive, that’s all,” Alec replies, taking a large sip of his water, finishing the rest of the sentence in his head. _Or what remains of me that’s still alive._

Maia doesn’t seem to disagree with that, knowing her words made some sort of impact, but Alec is choosing to act like he hasn’t understood a word of it.

 

\- - - - -

 

**2 HOURS LATER**

 

_Maia: [Ok, I’ll admit. He’s cool. Not as annoying as you said he’d be.]_

_Magnus: [I suppose it went well, then.]_

_Maia: [Of course it did. Good thing it was me and not some rookie. His eyes aren’t easy to look at, that’s for sure. But are you going to explain why you’re making a deal with the literal devil?]_

_Magnus: [So you know who he is?]_

_Maia: [The Swordsman, right? Edom’s guardian or whatever? He eventually told me when I asked. Usually demons are just here to wreak havoc, but he’s the most mundane demon I’ve met. I actually said that to him, and it’s only his eyes and nonchalant charm that gives him away.]_

 

 _It could’ve gone worse,_ Magnus thinks.

Deciding to ring her instead, Maia picks up almost straight away. Over the next few minutes, Magnus explains the deal, how Alec will be a vital piece to the puzzle in helping to change the Clave for the better. And then Magnus starts asking about Alec, the questions he’s been asking and any sort of information Magnus might need to know about him.

 _“What do you mean?”_ Maia laughs at one of his concerns, not seeing the problem with it.

“You freely let him go on the internet of all things?” There’s a slight panic to his voice, wondering what things Alec now has the knowledge of.

Maia sighs on the other end, obviously not worried herself. She was there to monitor him when he had the freedom to freely ask questions to a system that’d actually listen to him.

_“He asked about too much stuff. He really never shuts up when he’s given chance to. I just gave him a chance to look up something that’s been bothering him.”_

“And that was?”

_“Dating, what some words mean, and something about food?”_

_Dating?_ Magnus blanks for a moment, an ugly feeling stirring in his gut. Alec isn’t trying to understand the art of love, _right?_ He’s probably just curious about mundane interaction, as to why people hold hands or kiss.

Surely, he should understand that if he’s a demon that understands lust being a sin.

“Did he say why he wanted to know about it?”

_“He said something about a Shadowhunter saying it to him at a club. He then went onto explain about how little he understands about mundanes and their desire to have such a relationship once he found out what it was. Something about greed being much more powerful.”_

Alec doesn’t understand love. He doesn’t understand any emotions except the ones he’s haunted to feed on. And that reality cuts deeper than Magnus thought it would, and as short as it lasts, it’s still enough to leave a dent somewhere inside his soul.

And even then, when Alec found out from his internet research, he didn’t believe such a thing _truly_ existed. Well, Magnus can see why he’d think that, because Magnus is yet to find another love, one that stays.

“He didn’t say anything else?”

Maia hums on the other end of the phone, a rustling in the background, _“Not really. He kept asking questions about you, about how you run things and what your goals in life are. Has he asked you that and you didn’t reply?”_

“No, he hasn’t asked anything of the sort. Alec has been irritating, nothing more.”

 _“Are you sure about that?”_ she pauses, letting that sink in, _“Because despite the red of his eyes, he seems like a guy who was born with blood that wasn’t his choice.”_

Of course, he wasn’t born with it, Magnus knows that because he’s aware of _who_ the demon is. Maia doesn’t own the greater demon book Magnus owns to see the extent of such  small history the world has given him. He’s the fallen, once angel now demon, cursed to never understand why and feel what he did before.

“Maia, he’s a demon. He’s simply getting into your head.”

 _“You warded my bar, remember? I doubt his magic could’ve done anything even if he tried.”_ There’s a clink of a glass, and Magnus wonders if Alec is still there.

“Is Alec still there?”

 _“No, he left a few minutes ago. I asked him if he’s staying anywhere and he said he hasn’t slept since he was summoned here. Didn’t tell me why, but I suggested he should find somewhere he can call home for the time being.”_ Maia is silent for a beat in time, a sigh following. _“I had to explain what home meant, Magnus.”_

There’s a sharp pain in Magnus’ chest, one that clicks another lock free from his heart. He’s either bluffing to win them over with sympathy points, or he’s being genuine.

But Magnus is aware of the fact that he can’t lie because he’s in constant contact with the Soul Sword. Even then, who knows if the gifts of the instrument are the same.

“Thank you, Maia, for allowing him to go there.”

_“No problem. He was a delight to have, which was a bit of a shock, if I’m being honest. No trouble at all.”_

Alec is still following his rules despite Magnus already bending them himself. He didn’t want to get his close friends involved, but it helps Magnus that there’s now less weight on his shoulders with this whole ordeal.

_“Magnus, why didn’t you tell Catarina or Luke? Or that other dude, the one that wears all the green-- Ragnor?”_

“Catarina is busy with her duties at the hospital, and she’s been going through a lot lately with campaigning for High Warlock in LA, so bringing Alec into the equation would complicate things. I have no doubt she’d still be here for me if I did tell her, but the quicker this deal ends, the quicker life can go back to normal-- whatever that is.”

Maia seems to understand, but keeps listening for the part about Luke.

“Same goes for Luke and being the Alpha of your pack. I don’t want this burden to be anyone else's but mine. This is my deal, my decision to summon him. I needed someone strong enough to stand up to him and a place that’s strongly warded to stop his magic. I trust you because you’ve always been there for Downworlders like I have, and even though these circumstances are different, there’s something about Alec that makes this deal anything _but_ a deal.”

_“What do you mean?”_

“He’s not what I expected. Alec isn’t-- _demonic._ He’s not this bloodthirsty beast that demanded my soul in payment, even though he jokes about it.. No demon should have the emotional range and intelligence he does. It’s frustrating that there’s so much hidden mystery about him and yet he’s hiding behind this facade that doesn’t _want_ to know.” Magnus knows he’s rambling, and stops, taking a deep breath as he hears something shift through his wards.

It’s a fire message, twirling with a thunder as it makes its way towards Magnus, the edges burning as the message is formed from the embers. That very magic reminds him of someone, and he’s left frowning at that thought as he catches the message.

 _“Maybe you’re looking into this too much,”_ she says, _“because at the end of the day, you’re going to send him back, right? He doesn’t belong here, even if your forgiving heart wants to give him an ear that’ll listen to his story. I wouldn’t blame you if you did keep him here, though, he’s pretty cool.”_

Magnus hangs onto those words, ponders with them inside his thoughts. Perhaps that’s what Alec needs; a soul that’ll listen to him.

“I suppose you’re right,” Magnus turns his attention to the fire message, worry pooling in his gut at what he reads, “but thank you for giving him a few minutes of peace. I think that’s what he’s been secretly asking for.”

 _“Or that’s what you’ve been wanting,”_ Maia replies, her voice somewhat solemn, _“because you’re calling him Alec.”_

He swallows, taking his gaze away from the fire message as Maia’s words sink in. If he really didn’t care about Alec, he wouldn’t be using his first name, he wouldn’t have asked for it. Magnus will always put heart before mind, despite how much he’s been denying it. Granted, he doesn’t do it anymore, but it’s still there in small, almost insignificant ways.

Caring about Alec enough to give him a few minutes of being a mundane again, to forget his blood as much as he can, he wouldn’t have done it if he didn’t feel some sort of sympathy for him.

Perhaps it’s because he knows how cruel Edom is, or Magnus wants to find out why the angels would punish one of their own so unspeakably brutal that they’d ignore Valentine. In Magnus’ eyes, they’ve gone for the wrong man, or there’s a darker, much more violent soul hiding inside of Alec waiting to break free.

Maia’s right, despite even her own doubts to the extent of Alec’s dark side. Magnus can’t risk letting him free. Demons are tricksters, and as much as he wants to believe in change, he doesn’t know enough to let Alec go. He would never forgive himself if Alec makes himself into a monster that clearly knocks Valentine off the villain throne.

“I do, and maybe I should stop, but I feel I need to play a game he’ll willingly fall into. As much as it hurts to pretend, to give him kindness I otherwise wouldn’t, it’s for the greater good.”

_“I don’t mind what you do, I’ll be here to support you if you need it. You’re Magnus Bane, there’s nothing you can’t do. Just don’t hurt yourself or whatever humanity Alec gains by spending time here. Perhaps there could be something to save if you’re there by his side.”_

Magnus can only hope, and with a few more words of thanks, he promises Maia that he’ll keep her updated if anything happens. He should text Alec, see how he got on with Maia from his point of view, but the fire message is something he’s been waiting for.

 

 

> _MAGNUS BANE,_
> 
> _YOU ARE FORMALLY INVITED TO THE CLAVE’S OFFICIAL MASQUERADE BALL AT THE NEW YORK INSTITUTE. YOU HAVE FOUR DAYS TO PREPARE FOR THE EVENT. IT IS TO CELEBRATE THE CLAVE’S FUTURE AIM OF A GREATER ALLIANCE BETWEEN THE SHADOWHUNTERS AND DOWNWORLDERS._
> 
> _THE THEME IS HEAVEN, PLEASE DRESS ACCORDINGLY._
> 
> _WE HOPE TO SEE YOU THERE_
> 
> _INQUISITOR_

 

With the information Alec found at Pandemonium, and the obvious focus on Magnus’ taste, this is no doubt aimed at Magnus, more so than before. Considering they’re holding it at the closest Institute, and giving him a formal invitation, they’re really pulling out all of the stops to win him over.

He’ll contact Alec about it tomorrow. Right now, it’s late, and Magnus needs some sleep before the storm of future events rolls in. It’s quiet right now, with the deal _just_ starting, but Magnus has no doubt that things will start to heat up.

 _And_ with the fact that he needs to contact Alec, he needs to be well rested to make sure his patience is recharged to deal with it. Magnus is a patient man, but Alec finds a way around that, perhaps too easily.

 

\- - - - -

 

The next day, Magnus leaves the task of contacting Alec until later into the night. He had an emergency client and a meeting with other warlocks to discuss the real intention of such a ball organised by the Clave. Almost everyone in Magnus’ district of warlocks has been invited, except a few on the perceived _naughty list_ for stretching the accords.

Pulling out his phone as he enters back into his apartment, Magnus opens up their conversation and starts texting.

 

_BANE: [Need to talk to you about what you found at Pandemonium.]_

 

No reply. Every other text conversation they’ve had, Alec responded almost immediately. And now, minutes are going by without any chat bubble or activity from Alec on his end. It’s about ten minutes until he _does_ reply.

 

_SWORDSMAN: [Can it wait? I’m a little busy right now.]_

_BANE: [Busy? How can you be busy?]_

_SWORDSMAN: [One sec.]_

_SWORDSMAN ATTACHED AN IMAGE_

_SWORDSMAN: [I’m in Hawaii and I just ordered a sweet ass looking milkshake. So you’re gonna have to wait.]_

 

Magnus presses his thumb on the picture, enlarging it, and he’s stuck between laughing and sighing. It’s a blurry picture of the bar he’s at, not a selfie, but it must be an attempt. It seems the time he spent with Maia has finally broken him out of the shell Magnus never knew he had.

Little does Magnus know, Alec is trying to find something he can eat and actually taste. Nothing is working for him, not yet, and this milkshake is next in the possible list of disappointments.

 

_BANE: [Alright. Bring it back here. I need to discuss this with you.]_

_SWORDSMAN: [Are you not angry at the fact I’m showing myself to people?]_

_BANE: [They’re mundanes nowhere near an Institute. As much as you are a nuisance, you’re not actively making my life hell. Although if you do, I won’t hesitate to make you deal with the  consequences.]_

_SWORDSMAN: [You’re getting soft, Bane. I knew you couldn’t hate me forever.]_

_BANE: [Don’t get too excited. I still very much despise you, but I have to work with you. The least I can do is learn to tolerate you.]_

 

And no longer than a few seconds later, Alec is teleporting inside his apartment with the Soul Sword floating against his back, dressed like any tourist going on holiday would. Magnus has to look twice to confirm that Alec is in fact wearing sunglasses, a pair of swimming trunks and a white tank top that shouldn’t be allowed. He’s also carrying a coconut with a long, red striped straw coming out of one of the three holes.

Alec’s arms are illegal, Magnus concludes.

Blinking, he focuses back on reality. “Out,” Magnus says, pointing towards his door. “Stop waltzing into my apartment as if you own the place.”

Alec looks like he’s been scolded, taking a step back and looking towards Magnus’ door.

“Are you being serious? You want me to _knock?”_ replies Alec, and Magnus doesn’t say anything back to him in silent judgement, not letting his eyes fall from him as Alec pokes his tongue to the inside of his cheek. “Alright, fine.”

When he’s outside, having taken the coconut with him, he knocks once, lightly. Magnus doesn’t budge the magic that’s now locking the door.

His phone pings, and Magnus can’t bite back his smirk. Magnus is part demon, too. There’s nothing stopping him from beating Alec at his own game.

 

_SWORDSMAN: [How long are you going to make me wait outside?]_

_BANE: [Until you learn how to knock.]_

 

Two knocks sound on his door, but Magnus doesn't have the heart to let him win that easily. He waits until Alec gives up, texting him back.

 

_SWORDSMAN: [You're a child. Let me in.]_

_BANE: [It's three knocks not two.]_

 

Alec sighs on the other side of the door, and as he’s knocking, Magnus opens the door before Alec can even place the third knock with his knuckles. His blank expression from the hallway says it all.

Waving his hand, blue magic slithering over his fingers, the door to his apartment falls shut behind the demon, a rather _pissed_ Alec walking towards Magnus again. He’s mumbling something, but that frown quickly turns into a smile.

Magnus looks at his smile, though, and he struggles to fight back his own, keeping a straight face.

“Tolerate me?” Alec finally responds to the text Magnus sent before he arrived, sipping his milkshake out of the coconut, eyebrows going up at the sweet taste. He smacks his lips together as he moves his head back, looking down at the coconut as he talks. “That’s rather rude. I’ve already been successful in gaining information for you. If anything, I’m doing my job properly.”

He turns, looking around Magnus’ apartment, noticing the lack of anything different. With Alec learning so many mundane things thanks to Maia, he’s become a little confident in how he sees the world, how he’s meant to interact with it. Especially if Magnus is willing to give him more freedom, and before it inevitably all goes wrong, Alec has a chance to feel somewhat mundane.

Although his blood, forgotten memories, and jaded emotions will remind him that he can never be such a thing as _human._

Clearing this throat, Magnus decides not to reply, leading Alec to the kitchen where the invitation from the Clave sits on the side.

“Not going to ask how my holiday was?” teases Alec, followed by the annoying noise of someone slurping from a straw.

“No.”

“It’s the first time I’ve left New York.”

Alec doesn’t notice how Magnus turns to him at that, too focused on the freshly made burger he summons to his hand from the exact same place he ordered his milkshake from.

“What do you mean you never left New York?”

Shrugging, Alec realises he’s been caught with his nerves clear on his face, “I didn’t want to stray too far, otherwise you’d start to miss me. Can’t have that, can we?”

As Alec munches on his burger, Magnus’ face softens. There may be another reason why, but Magnus doesn’t desire to know and Alec’s not intending to tell him.

“Holy shit, why does this _taste_ so good?” Eyeing the burger as if it’s some magical being, he lifts it up, inspecting every corner and squishing it between his fingers a little. It’s real, and Alec can taste it.

Magnus isn’t aware that this _shouldn’t_ happen, that Alec _shouldn’t_ have the ability to taste what he’s eating, but he is, and he’s enjoying it far beyond his shock of being able to.

Fighting the smile that starts to form, Magnus gets back on topic.

“You would wait that long? What if I never summoned you again?” he replies, tempted to smile even more when Alec places his head back, almost groaning.

“Er, well,” Alec talks with food in his mouth, but then finishes eating when Magnus glares at him before speaking again. When he swallows, Alec looks down to the burger he’s holding, as if imagining the events he speaks about in his head. “I’d spend an eternity moping, I guess. I’d probably start exploring new things after about a month, move to another country in a year. I have time, so it’s not like there’s a rush to do anything. I don’t suppose you’d free me the deal either, so it’d be a rather boring, infuriating eternal life.”

Now that’s a heartfelt confession he didn’t think he’d get. He’s still got that charming tone to his words, one that keeps Magnus listening, but his complaints about the deal can wait.

“That’s a conversation for another time. I’ve summoned you here because of the information you got  from the Shadowhunter at Pandemonium. Turns out it was the truth, after all.” Magnus allows Alec his small victory smile, licking his lips from the milkshake he sips again.

“What can I say? I’m persuasive.”

 _More like irritating,_ replies Magnus in his thoughts, the air growing silent between them.

“So… it’s a ball, for definite?”

“Yes,” says Magnus, not liking how Alec steps closer at that. “A formal ball.”

Alec weighs his decisions, as if he has jokes waiting under the wings and various words he can use to win Magnus over. But one thought keeps pushing itself to the forefront of his mind, tickling his own curiosity.

“Do you have a date?”

Magnus blinks at him, “A _date?”_

Alec looks from his face to the door, then back to him, “You’re going to a ball without a date?”

“And what would you know about such events?” replies Magnus, and Alec shrugs.

“... Enough.”

Maia must have given him too much freedom on the internet. He’ll have to text and thank her, perhaps even in person if time is generous for him. She’s allowed Alec to open up a bit, to not be so stoic and detached.

“Enlighten me with some knowledge, Alec.” Magnus makes himself comfortable on the bar stool, arms back as he leans his elbows on the marble top.

“Well, they usually have a theme,” Alec starts, finishing his burger soon enough, letting out a satisfactory noise.

“Correct. This one is no exception.” He reaches to the side, picking up the formal invitation and holding it up, Alec taking a few steps forward in order to take it, standing directly in front of Magnus. “Masked ball. Theme is _heaven.”_

“How disgustingly ironic,” Alec clicks his tongue, but smirks at the idea that emerges from his thoughts, “does that mean we’ll be going as _hell?”_

Magnus was just going to follow the theme, wanting to avoid any sort of drama or conflict with any of the council, but he can’t help the little kick of excitement that flutters in his stomach from possibly annoying the entire Clave.

He’s a man to make a statement, and this is something that’d no doubt make one.

“That’s the most interesting thing you’ve ever said, Alec.” Magnus takes the invitation back, going over the words once more before placing it back on the side. “I rather like that idea.”

“What can I say?” tilting his head, he gives Magnus a smile that warms, “I’m not all brawn and devilishly good looks.”

Magnus _groans,_ “You _can’t_ use devilish on yourself, that’s-- just _don’t.”_

Alec furrows his brows. “And you can? I don’t see the _Prince of Edom_ shying away from showing his power in any small way.”

“How so?” Magnus will never get old of Alec calling him a Prince. No matter how much he _despises_ the existence of that realm, he’ll always admire Alec’s dire, somewhat hidden respect for him.

Gesturing to him, Alec looks up and down, obviously pointing out how he sits so confidently, the grace in his movements and the power Alec can feel every time he’s around him.

Magnus only smiles, and then he smirks, thinking that there’s no point in denying Alec’s view when he’s right. He knows how powerful he is, and Alec doesn’t dare to deny it. If anything, doing so would be a free ticket back to Edom, because there’s no breaking the rules with a man who can bend and break the world at his will.

“You’re quite flattering,” standing up from the stool, Magnus manages to look down on Alec even though the demon is taller than him, “but it won’t get you anywhere.”

The disappointment on Alec’s face almost makes him laugh, but Magnus keeps his stern expression, walking to the side as he hears Alec exhale. They were standing so close, more than Magnus realises until the warmth of Alec is gone, replaced by the cold breeze blowing through his apartment from the open balcony doors.

“I do love a challenge,” Alec whispers, Magnus choosing to ignore it.

Clearing his throat shortly after, Alec moves to where Magnus was sitting and perches himself on the stool, watching Magnus walk around towards his fridge to get out ingredients for dinner.

“Are we going, then?” Alec asks, crossing his arms over the marble, sipping from the coconut again.

“I’m not sure about the _we_ yet, but I’m going. It’s vital that I understand the lengths as to which the Shadowhunters want your glorified tooth pick, and what better place to find that at out with an event made for the purpose of winning me over. There may be information about Valentine, too.”

Magnus ponders between a curry and something Italian, deciding on Italian as he takes the various things he needs. Alec only watches in silence, Magnus not wanting to give Alec a definite yes just yet.

Of course he wants Alec to come along. Not only will he be able to tell lies from truth - not that Magnus can’t easily read people due to his many years of living - but these council members are sometimes worse than the literal devil themselves. What better way to beat them at their own game than the devil himself?

“How boring,” sighs Alec, tapping his fingers as Magnus starts prepping the food. “Don’t you want a bodyguard? A _fake boyfriend?”_

“Fake dating usually ends in actual dating if movies and various stories are anything to go by,” replies Magnus, not realising how casual this moment is between them despite Magnus’ wishes to not do such a thing. It’s not as if Alec is doing anything bad, and frankly, Magnus is starting to enjoy his amusing takes on mundane life. “No offence, but I meant it when I said this is business only.”

“If it was business, I wouldn’t be here while you chop tomatoes.”

“We’re still talking about business,” Magnus is sharp when he replies, shocking himself as he takes a moment to breathe, “and nothing more. I’m not playing any of your games, no matter how many times I have to repeat that.”

Alec stills, cold blooming in his chest, but he only feels empty, not the cold itself.

“I suppose you’re right,” replies Alec, sitting up straight as he takes out his phone, “even though I can tell when you’re lying.”

Magnus looks over to him, not facing him directly, but he can see Alec run his tongue over his bottom lip, catching Magnus’ eyes and smirking a little. He knows not to challenge Magnus any further.

“Whatever you think _this_ is, it’s over now.” Placing the knife down, he turns his back to Alec, snapping his fingers to rid of the food packaging. “I’ll text you if I decide I need a second pair of hands.”

Alec stands up, laughing a little. “My mind just went places, I’ll admit.” And Alec is still smirking when Magnus looks at him, realising how that can be taken out of context. Damn him. “But I won’t say no to either meaning behind those words.”

And just like that, he’s leaving through the balcony doors, embers trickling back into his apartment as Alec teleports to wherever or whoever he’s going to infuriate next.

Magnus stills his movements when he realises Alec is gone, and then slumps forward to place his elbows against the counter. He closes his eyes, gritting his teeth as Alec’s voice circles his thoughts, images of possible futures painting themselves even when Magnus keeps ripping up the canvas.

With a deep breath, Magnus curses quietly, not wanting to break, but his shivering heart does so anyway.

 _Shit,_ he thinks. _This is bad._

 

\- - - - -

 

**3 DAYS LATER**

 

The day of the ball has arrived, and Magnus is making the final adjustments to his mask when his phone chimes next to him. It’s not meant to start for a few more hours, not until night falls over the city, but Magnus is a man to be prepared.

He quickly checks it, but decides not to reply.

 

_SWORDSMAN: [I’m at the venue.]_

 

“Wow, Magnus, you’re incredible,” Isabelle says, holding up the mask she’s just finished making. “I didn’t think you’d be open to helping me make one.”

Isabelle is invited to the ball too, considering it’s being held at the Institute, and Isabelle is clearly on Magnus’ side of the battlefield. She’s going to be there to make sure that the Clave don’t try anything funny.

Magnus smiles at her, putting his phone back onto the table.

“It’s the least I can do for someone so kind,” he replies, making a few more adjustments to the details of his own mask. “Thank _you_ for even contacting me about it. It’s not every day such an event happens, and I’m rather excited.”

“Me too! The Clave _never_ does anything like this.” She shrugs her shoulders, and Magnus suddenly wonders if she’s not attune to the real reason why they’re making such noise and preparation for a ball.

“Are you not aware of why they’re holding it?” inquires Magnus, squinting a little.

“Of course. I was the unfortunate soul with the lengthy email from the council themselves. My strict orders were to _win_ you over so you’d agree to summon the Clave’s _favourite_ fallen angel.” Isabelle places the mask back down, sighing. “But I’m sure I don’t need to tell you that I’m here because I enjoy your company, not because I don’t want to be fired by my superiors.”

Magnus chuckles, passing over the soft fabric Isabelle wanted to use earlier. She promptly thanks him, her hair still tied up in a messy bun.

“I’m very aware, dear. I enjoy yours, too. As you said, it’s not every day something like this happens, and it’s certainly not common for a Shadowhunter to be so open about accepting change, or just _accepting,_ for that matter.”

“To be honest, I’m tired of the wars, the constant fighting about who is better than the other because we’re separated by how much demon or nephilim blood we have,” Isabelle throws her hands up, looking to Magnus’ mask and chuckling, “because, well, you’re literally going _against_ the theme for a reason.”

“What can I say?” He shrugs, amused, but not forgetting _who_ he got the idea from. “If it’s for me, surely I can do whatever I please and they’ll still have to love me. How better to remind them that the only person that can help them has the blood they so despise.”

“Remind me to never get on your bad side, Magnus,” jokes Isabelle, leaning her side on the table as she crosses her arms, “not that I believe you have one.”

“You barely know me.”

“I know a good person when I see one,” dropping her gaze to Magnus’ mask, she continues with her point, “even if it’s hidden behind stories, bad blood, facades to hide our true selves. At the end of the day, we’re all human, and I think learning that makes the world a more interesting place. We learn more things if we’re open to learning them, and we make choices with our heads so often that our hearts forget what we’re fighting for.”

Magnus didn’t expect that. Not at all.

In fact, it must have slipped, because Isabelle is lost in thought, something clearly on her mind. Magnus decides not to say anything, allowing her to break free of whatever thought that’s clinging to her.

When she does, Isabelle smiles, looking up to Magnus and hunching her shoulders before relaxing them again.

“Something on your mind, Isabelle?” he asks, out of kindness not curiosity.

“Not really. I just-- something feels weird about this whole thing. This _Swordsman_ is so-- _unknown?_ Like the angels hated him that much that they didn’t bother to even write his story.” She taps her fingers against her arm. “What do you think about him?”

_Where do I start with that sort of question?_

Magnus could answer a few questions, that’s for sure, but he’s barely scratched the surface with Alec. He doesn’t even _want_ to, but the possibility of something _greater,_ the _reason_ why Alec acts so different and feels different to other demons; that’s what keeps Magnus from sending him back. He’s already broken rules, twisted them, but Magnus doesn’t have the heart to send him back.

Not yet, at least. He’s a man of his word, and Magnus will return him back to that realm if need be.

Alec looks as lost as Magnus does, sometimes. And maybe it’s silly to hang on to hope so fragile and almost hypnotic, but he’s never held back from the impossible before.

There’s more to Alec. He can feel it in the way his magic rushes to the surface when Alec’s near, how there’s pieces missing he can’t find. Magnus hates it and wants to solve the puzzle at the same time.

“I think he’s a man with a mystery none of us can solve,” starts Magnus, picking up his mask, thumb stroking over the golden detail of the horns pointing out from the top of the mask. “And he’s dangerous, powerful, perhaps a risk worth taking if we’re to end this battle between two sides.”

Isabelle walks around the table, coming to stand next to him. “What if he’s simply just a man?”

Magnus bites his lip, remembering the hazel he saw at Pandemonium. His magic created that colour by itself, not by Magnus’ command. It was completely random.

But somehow, that colour belonged, as if the red he’s permanently cursed with now is simply a result of the boiling blood in his veins.

“Perhaps he is,” and Magnus feels his heart fight with his mind, “perhaps he’s not. But one thing we do know, is that he fell for a reason, and we may never find out why. Edom is not a place for redemption, and whatever he was before, there’s no doubt he’s worse, if not a completely different soul.”

Isabelle smiles, albeit small, but it’s there. She understands where Magnus is coming from, and the good in both of their hearts is _trying_ to see the good in a literal _demon._ She’s not even met him yet, and Magnus _has._

He laughs, prompting Isabelle to speak.

“What’s so funny?”

“Nothing,” he replies, casual, taking a deep breath. “The world is rather crazy, isn’t it?”

“But we have our friends and family to keep us sane.” Isabelle pats his shoulder, and Magnus suddenly feels cold.

_Alec._

He doesn’t have anyone to keep him sane. He doesn’t have anyone to talk to.

“Magnus?” speaks Isabelle, softly, concerned at how tense Magnus has gone. “Are you alright?”

“Yes, just thinking.”

“I didn’t mean to--”

“No, no Isabelle. You’re right. We should appreciate those we have close and call friends. And I for one, am thankful I have you as a friend, dear.”

Isabelle takes a moment, but she smiles, wondering why Magnus simply shoved such an emotional change so quickly.

Before she can inquire about it, her phone rings, and the alert that pops up on the screen is one she has to answer to. It’s from the institute, issuing she needs to be back to check over preparations.

“Ugh, they’re calling me back.”

“Duty calls,” Magnus replies, laughing at how she rolls her eyes. “It’s going to be a lovely night, despite all the politics and possible bribery.”

She nudges him, then, finding his teasing amusing despite her short snort. “Hey, I’m doing my best. The scouts they sent out barely brought back anything good. Everything they said didn’t even make sense. I’m pretty sure most of them just ended up getting drunk and well, that’s a detail I don’t want to expand on.”

“Understandable,” he picks up Isabelle’s mask, “but I’m sure you’ll look stunning, no matter how the Institute looks.”

“And that’s what matters.” She smirks, taking her mask as Magnus hands it over, thanking him.

“I’ll see you there, Isabelle.”

“Take care, Magnus!” Isabelle shouts on her way out, hurrying to put her coat on as she closes the apartment doors behind her.

There must be a rush to fix decorations or official Clave business she has to attend. Either way, Magnus enjoyed their few hours together, discussing science as well as helping each other decide on style. Isabelle is more intelligent than a lot of people give her credit for.

Looking to his phone at the side of the table, Magnus takes a deep breath, thinking over what Isabelle said. And before he knows it, he’s replying to Alec.

 

_BANE: [And why are you there?]_

_SWORDSMAN: [Ouch. You left me on read.]_

_SWORDSMAN: [I’m just checking there’s no foul play here.]_

 

Well, he certainly didn’t expect Alec to care this much. Even when Magnus said he wouldn’t be needing Alec’s assistance, the fact that he’s checking the perimeter for anything suspicious slowly makes Magnus think that Alec _does_ have the heart to care. Perhaps he’s starting to see the bigger picture, as to why Magnus is doing this.

Looking from his phone to the mask he’s made, Magnus snaps his fingers, making one to pair with it. He already said he wanted Alec to come in order to see the difference between truth and lies, so he’ll allow Alec a single victory smirk this time.

 

_BANE: [Head over to my apartment. I have something for you.]_

_SWORDSMAN: [Sounds fun.]_

 

Magnus listens, counts the seconds go by until he hears the usual crackle of fire, the violent push through his wards. Alec arrives through his balcony as he usually does, only needing a few seconds until he’s made his way into the study where Magnus is.

“Afternoon, handsome,” he announces his arrival, knocking on the wall twice, looking at Magnus as he walks closer, arms behind his back. He's back in the usual, all black suit. “What can I do for you?”

Not responding straight away, Magnus lifts up the second mask, offering it to Alec. He doesn't want to waste any time.

“Here. Take this as your plus one invitation.”

For a moment, Alec doesn’t take it, frowning down at the mask, then back to Magnus before looking at the mask again. He’s cautious when he takes it from Magnus’ hold, bringing his other hand round to hold it gently.

The matching masks are a dark, warm red. They’re lined with details that stretch out into floral patterns. Alec’s mask has black details compared to the gold of Magnus’, but it’s still striking, almost more menacing.

“Are we talking bodyguard or a fake date?” says Alec, brushing his thumb over the delicate details of the mask, admiring the subtle hints to his devilish origins.

“Whatever I decide, you’ll ignore me anyway,” teases Magnus, shocked that he’s even playing along with his jokes. Perhaps he’s just a _little_ excited. “It’s for one night only, so we might as well make the most of it.”

Alec shifts his gaze to Magnus, catching how he doesn’t look away. This time, they’re suspended, both wondering what the meaning behind those words mean. For Alec, he hopes he’s wrong, and for Magnus, he hopes he’s right.

“Well. I’ll get my best suit,” says Alec, a curious smile forming.

“Red, of course?”

Alec clicks his tongue, shaking his head. “As if you’d believe I’d wear any other colour. I intend to be matching to my fake date.”

“You’ve decided, I see.” Magnus doesn’t know why he smiles.

“And you didn’t?” questions Alec, winking at him as he turns over the mask so he can see the back, noticing the various languages when he scans over the inside of the mask.

“Glamour for your eyes.” Pointing to the various patterns and letters, the gold they’re drawn with shines near the creator. “I’ve been working on a stronger spell. As long as you’re wearing the mask, you’ll be able to hide those red eyes of yours.”

“One time thing, then?”

Pain grips Magnus’ chest, having to subconsciously busy himself with his own mask so he doesn’t grip his shirt. Alec is somehow getting through to him, and he’s starting to understand the pain laced like poison behind every one of his words.

His eyes, how they’re permanently red, permanently _evil;_ does Alec despise it?

“As time goes on, I suppose you’ll be closer to the action. I see no harm in me replicating the spell on another object.”

Alec nods, turning the mask back over again. It should just cover his eyes and sit on the bridge of his nose, ending in the middle of his forehead where two small horns move up and out.

“I appreciate that.” He swallows, louder than normal, and Magnus hears it. “For the deal, of course.”

“For the deal,” repeats Magnus, but there’s not as much strength in his words when he says it. “For the future.”

The demon looks at him, suspending them in silence again before Alec can’t take it anymore.

“So, when should I pick you up? Eight?”

Magnus shakes his head. “I’ll meet you at the venue.”

“Won’t it be more believable if we turn up together?” inquires the demon, sad that Magnus wants to avoid contact already.

Shit. He’s right. Magnus hates that he’s right.

“Fine,” he caves, turning back to Alec, “I’ll see you at eight. Whenever you decide to meet me.”

“Giving the reins to _me?”_ Alec bites his bottom lip, and Magnus darts his eyes away, not wanting to see that, especially if those red eyes are going to burn any brighter in the dimly lit study. “Looks like I’m starting to win our little back and forth, Bane.”

“You can dream, _demon.”_

Alec laughs, close to something evil, a little deep. He takes a step forward, close enough that Magnus can feel his voice brush against the back of his neck.

“We all do, eventually.” And then Alec's gone, the weight of his presence shattering like glass.

Standing there, looking down to his own delicate mask, Magnus thinks of the matching one, the one Alec now holds. And he spoke of it, almost _thanking_ Magnus for the way he thought about his eyes, just to confirm Magnus' own harsh but needed words of this being a _one time thing._

It's true, in both the deal _and_ tonight.

But _god,_ why is this demon getting to him? Why can't he just _shut_ him out? Surely, Magnus can handle something like this, because he's dealt with far worse; but Alec is _different._ He's not like the stories say, and if he was, Magnus imagines that he'd be in much different circumstances right now.

_What have I done?_

Magnus brings his hand up to his face, scratching his goatee, thinking how he can keep his cool and not fall into whatever spell Alec’s trying to entrance him with. If anything, he’s already starting to fall to his rhythm, allowing more and more room until Alec will sink his teeth in. It's inevitable.

_Alec is a demon. This is what he does._

_He's trying to get into my head._

He’s tempting, _annoying_ and undeniably smart, and for a greater demon of immense power, the promise of _more_ that sits beneath his skin is a hunger Magnus hasn’t felt in a long, _long_ time.

Who knows what beast tonight will unveil, even with masks the hiding identities from judgement.

 

\- - - - -

_‘When wolves howl, you’ll see the sky shift,_

_Because no force is greater than family, even if they’re far apart,_

_They’ll always find their way back to each other.’_


	4. Heaven and Hell

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you for your continued support! i hope this lives up to your expectations! songs have been added to the playlist, and please don't be afraid to tell me what you think of this chapter! 
> 
> tw / blood, violence
> 
> #ODSfic

_'If you have a heart, how much will it bend?_

_How far are you willing to forgive?’_

 

_\- - - - -_

 

Honestly? Magnus is dreading it.

The ball, pretending to be there with happy intentions, walking around with a literal demon on his shoulder as if he’s his bodyguard, or god forbid-- _boyfriend._ Just the thought of it makes Magnus take an extra sip of water, staring out into the city streets below.

In about two hours time, the ball is scheduled to start. Outfit ready, plan on his mind-- all he has to do is make sure this evening goes smoothly, but he doubts that happening with a trickster surrounded by his mortal enemies.

Somehow, he’s going to have to cool Alec if he finds his temperature rising, that his sincere hatred for the nephilim and being jealous of holy blood he no longer has isn’t going to ruin a chance to collect vital information on Valentine.

Or, perhaps Alec doesn't care at all. Perhaps he’s content and Magnus is reading him wrong, but there _hasn’t_ been a time where Magnus has been wrong. He’s been off the mark, but he’s always been close, never completely on the other side of the field.

Checking over his suit, Magnus hums, rather happy with how its turned out. His mask sits on the side, ready to shift into whatever his soul will reflect tonight. Magnus just hopes it’s something good, and he’s also wondering how Alec’s will take shape. It’ll be the first clue to who Alec really is, and that’ll either be a monster or a lost soul in a demon’s body.

Magnus has already concluded which one he thinks is true, but he’ll probably never get to prove himself right or wrong. There won’t be time for second chances, because Magnus said that himself, that Alec isn’t here for redemption.

He’s here for the deal, nothing more.

But as his phone pings with a new message, Magnus finds himself bubbling with adrenaline, anticipation for the night ahead.

 

_SWORDSMAN: [Hey. Your fake boyfriend here for one night only. I’m outside.]_

_BANE: [I’ll be down in a few minutes.]_

_SWORDSMAN: [Look over your balcony.]_

_SWORDSMAN: [Also can’t you just portal?]_

_BANE: [No. You can wait.]_

_SWORDSMAN: [Alright boss. Whatever you say.]_

 

A few minutes later he’s downstairs, adjusting his collar for a few more seconds. He nods a small greeting towards the doorman, thanking him for a compliment he speaks his way. When he explains he’ll be back late, the doorman notes it down, telling him to have a good night, which Magnus returns.

Magnus pushes through the front door of the apartment complex, looking idly at the floor until he takes one step out. As the rotating doors settle behind him, Magnus dares himself to look forward, his eyes landing on Alec as the demon leans against a car.

And not just any car, but low to the ground, sleek and _expensive._ It’s matte black, details painted in rose red, front lights emitting red instead of the standard blue. He’s flipping a coin, eyes downcast as he waits, but as Magnus appears in his peripheral, he catches the coin, looking up to him with a growing smirk.

But in reality, Alec wants to say _holy shit, wow._

He’s checking him out, noticing the perfect fit of Magnus’ red suit, the tailored, embroidered details that’ll match his mask, and a small golden silk cape falling from his shoulder, one that ends just at the small of his back. Magnus looks every part of the royalty that he is, and Alec takes a deep breath as the warlock starts to approach him.

Alec flips the coin once more before putting it away, settling his hands into his pockets as he doesn’t take his eyes off Magnus.

Magnus can’t take his eyes off Alec either, no matter how much his head is telling him not to. But he can’t, not when Alec is handsome beyond measure with that slight bit of stubble, red suit, white shirt and black tie to finish off the look. With the car behind him, he’s playing the whole _fake boyfriend_ thing pretty well.

“Wow,” Magnus is part stunned, part excited. “You’re really going all out, aren’t you?”

Alec dips his head a little, and Magnus thinks he might be blushing, if a demon can even do that. But just as he’s opening himself up to a possibility, Alec quickly shuts it down, reminding them that they’re nothing but two people locked in a deal.

“One night only, remember?” His smile tips slightly before fading completely. “Might as well make the most of it.” He’s still leaning against the car when Magnus reaches him, not making a move although he’s itching to do something.

Magnus seems to read his mind. “Well?”

“What?”

“Aren’t you going to open the door for me? Have you not done your research?”

To Magnus’ surprise, Alec laughs. “Of course, your _highness.”_

He pushes himself from the car, turning to reach for the handle, hearing the click and letting it lift up by itself. When the wing door finishes rising, Magnus looks at Alec, smiles back at the small lift of his smirk.

“Thank you, _darling,”_ replies Magnus, acting the part now, “your taste is impeccable.”

Alec waits until Magnus seats himself in the car before pulling the door down, choosing not to answer as he walks round to the driver's seat. The door lifts before he gets there, and he slides into the low car easily, snapping his fingers to close the door so he can turn his attention to Magnus.

“What can I say?” Now he chooses to reply, pressing the _engine start_ button, the car rumbling like thunder, a short whine from the turbo, pistons working to bring the car to life. “I get it from you.”

He’s showing off, obviously, pushing the accelerator while he holds the car still. It’s a sound that’s bound to make people look, and it does, as many people entering the block turn towards the black car, not being able to see the passengers while the windows are blacked out.

The sky is already dark thanks to the coming winter months, and the picturesque city lights up and becomes another world entirely. Magnus sits back, not getting _too_ comfortable, but enough for him to get through the journey.

“I could have portalled,” starts Magnus, playing with the golden cuff on the bridge of his ear. “We _both_ could have portalled there.”

“And where’s the fun in that, Bane?” Alec pulls off when Magnus seems ready, deciding not to tease him about putting his seat belt on. They’re both devils with a mission tonight, and this is the least of their worries.

Besides, Magnus doubts this is a real car made by mundanes, as he feels _warm,_ surrounded by a magic not too far from his own, almost _familiar._ The car is very much alive in a different way, simply replicating a car Alec must’ve seen on his short trip after meeting Maia.

"How did you learn to _drive?"_ Magnus asks, staring out into the city, the dull, almost black colour of the sky painting a different picture of the city compared to daytime.

This is the time of nightmares, of forgotten memories, of sin and lust. And Magnus is sitting right next to the living thing; sin incarnate.

"Sat in on a few driving lessons," he starts, voice calm as if everything he's saying is completely normal. "I can pick things up pretty quickly. Went to see a race soon after, borrowed a few skills here and there."

 _"Borrowed?"_ Magnus repeats, turning to look at Alec, _trying_ not to let his gaze fall to his hand on the wheel, leaning that same arm on the window ledge of the car.

"Don't worry, Magnus. I didn't do anything. I simply watched one lap and that was it."

So that's another one of Alec's abilities; the ability to evolve, adapt. But something tells Magnus he wasn't given such a gift to learn how to drive expensive sports cars professionally so he can take his fake date to a masquerade ball.

Could be worse, after all.

"Is there anything you can't do, Alec?" He says it as a joke, to keep the conversation light. Magnus is dreading how many fake laughs he's going to have to make when they finally arrive at the ball, so having fun now might make the dreaded hours they're about to endure less taxing on the soul.

But Alec doesn't respond.

His hand grips the wheel tighter, his face shifting into something Magnus can't read from where he's sitting. Alec is tense, and Magnus can see how he's clenching his jaw, the shadow on his cheek darker.

"Unfortunately, yeah." He's sarcastic, sour as he replies after what seems like a few minutes of silence.

There’s a fear hidden behind those words, a figment of a reality he’s too afraid to admit. Perhaps there’s no facing it if Alec doesn’t want to believe it’s real, and frankly, he can lie to himself as long as he never has to face what he fears.

Maybe one day he’ll have to face it, and with Magnus beside him, he honestly believes it’ll be because of _him--_ because of _Magnus_ that he’ll face things he fears. That’s not necessarily bad, but he’s been the only person to talk to him as another, not an _it._ Granted, it’s not meant to be that way, but Magnus is slowly forgetting his own rules.

Alec just hopes that he’ll be able to say goodbye when the time comes.

Swallowing his nerves for the future, Alec turns his attention back to the present, giving a fake smile that Magnus knows is a lie.

“But that’s not important,” he says. “Nothing is, right?”

“I don’t know,” Magnus replies. “Depends on how you view the world.”

Alec looks down to the dashboard, watches the pin on the speed dial move slowly as the car gains speed. If only he could enjoy the world as Magnus could, to live in the moment instead of watching it blur past him.

“Wouldn’t that be nice, to experience the world.” Alec shifts a gear upwards, the kick breaking the silent tension in the car, and suddenly, Magnus is aware of the situation he’s in.

Magnus isn't sure if being in an expensive sports car with a greater demon is more of a shock than being aware of the fact that Alec _planned_ this. He's been thinking of this moment since Magnus mentioned the ball, probably hoping he'd invite him and find a way of winning him over.

He's been playing Alec's game, blindly holding the controller as if he knows what he's doing. But Alec has all the cheat codes, secrets, every part of the maze and Magnus is simply along for the ride.

_Literally._

"You're not scared of my driving, are you?" he says, letting the engine roar a little more, cruising down the street as lights whip overhead.

He must have picked up on Magnus' silence.

"No, I'm not."

"Oh," Alec says. "Good."

“And where is the sword?”

Alec glances at him. “At my new apartment, _safe.”_

Short, sweet sentences. In some cases, Magnus would prefer them if he’s not close to someone, especially if he’s so desperate to be removed from their presence. Something is still bothering him, though, and considering their situation, there’s no harm inquiring.

"Alec, I have to ask," Magnus turns to him once more, tone a little curious, "do you know the way?"

He frowns. "Of course."

"Then why are we going in the _opposite_ direction?" Looking around, the buildings of the city start to shrink, outskirts approaching quicker than he'd like. "I'm all for fashionably late, but I'd plan on doing that with someone I know, not a Swordsman of _Hell."_

 _"Fashionably late?"_ Alec echoes, looking at him for a moment before concentrating back on the road.

"Never heard that term before?"

"Not at all," Alec laughs, surprisingly. "But _fuck,_ mundane culture is interesting. Breaking the rules is like breathing to these people, no one likes order, even those you'd least expect."

"Being late isn't necessarily breaking the rules." Magnus feels his stomach flutter when Alec taps the paddle of the gearbox, the sudden shift in speed enough for him to jolt backward a little, but he’s able to keep his cool. "That's just horrible manners and punctuation."

Alec finds that statement interesting, amusing too. “I’m not one for rules,” he takes a breather, clicking his tongue, “except _yours,_ of course.”

Keeping the accelerator down, the car eases to a higher speed, way above what's legal. They even pass a police car, and nothing happens. Magnus comes to the conclusion the car is glamoured, but people are still looking for that split second Magnus catches of them as they roar past.

He shifts another gear, the kick music to Alec's ears. This is way too fun, and having the skill to do so at his fingertips is _heaven._ As much as he hates that word, it surely can't get better than this.

But then Magnus speaks.

"There's also adrenaline." Magnus reminds himself of the music at pandemonium, echoing the gradual howl of the turbo and every gear shift. "Fuel for rule breakers, as it may. Your heart picks up speed, your fingers tingle, and there's a million _what if_ questions going through your head."

Alec catches on to what he's saying, the sound of the engine drowning out because of Magnus' careful, silky words. He looks to his fingertips, now conscious of how they _do_ feel tingly, gripping with his one hand tighter on the wheel.

"So does being fashionably late give you adrenaline?" Alec doesn't know why he asks, but he does. Maybe he wants Magnus to feel it, the heart-pumping kick of _what if._

"Not necessarily," he replies, leaning back into the seat more, relishing in the feeling of watching the city go past in a hypnotic blur. "It’s simply a statement that you don’t wait for the world, it waits for _you.”_

Perking a brow, Alec looks at him, the red glow of the dash lighting up parts of his face. “Interesting.”

Magnus shrugs, as if to say _of course I am, I’m Magnus Bane._

He hasn’t felt such confidence in a while. Magnus usually exudes it, but with recent events, he’s been focused more on his people rather than himself. Even though it comes naturally, he’s noticed a shift when he’s with Alec, the _desire_ to feel a little reckless, more attune with how handsome he really is, how much _power_ he has willingly dancing in his veins.

There’s no denying he’s fond of it, this feeling he can’t name but chases after, and Magnus finds himself wanting to name it. Alec doesn’t have a clue, either, considering he can’t tell warm from cold, but what he feels with Magnus is _definitely_ new and interesting.

Alec is drawn to the warlock more than he’d like to admit, as he too, wants to deny the possible futures he sees, or that he _wants_ to see. Reckless behaviour and impure thoughts is trouble he’d never wish on anyone, especially with his curse, but damn it all to hell. Alec wants to try, fascinated by the way he smiles, the way he seems to have this _energy_ no one else has.

Perhaps, Alec thinks that there’s simply no other man like Magnus Bane.

And how jealous he is that he’ll only know Magnus for a portion of his infinite life. It’s not nearly enough for all the knowledge he seeks, the guidance Maia mentioned before. He'll be sent back and Alec probably won't see him again, and Alec doesn't know why that bothers him so much.

He grips the wheel tighter, taking a deep breath, calming the wolves that begin to wake inside his chest. There are rules he can’t break, important ones.

"Well then, Bane," he says his name as he lifts his foot off the accelerator, "I hope you don't mind if we take the scenic route."

Magnus shouldn't be saying yes, shouldn't be smiling at how _alive_ he feels, but damn this night to hell. He's going to have fun while the bubble lasts, both of them hidden away in a fake hope of something more.

Alec isn't a demon right now, he's a man dressed in a well tailored suit, a dashing smile on his face as he relaxes back in the driver's seat, one hand on the wheel. He's his devilishly _fake boyfriend,_ red eyes no longer burning with a hatred for reality because he's starting to understand it.

They can both forget about the bigger picture, to be nothing for a while. And _god,_ Magnus hasn't wanted that in a long, long time.

"I would like nothing more, Alec."

 

\- - - - -

 

Watching the world go by is more relaxing than he thought it’d be. Magnus finds himself wanting to pull over as he spots small corner shops with blinking signs, multiple antique shops with rare and one of a kind trinkets that are waiting for homes. But he can’t, because he knows there’s a party to get to, people to save.

Alec doesn’t say anything the whole journey, seemingly content with the silence. Besides the growl and whine of the engine, there’s nothing but them, a road, and a destination neither of them really want to go to.

But as the world would have it, they need to be there. They need to do this for a greater good, a good Alec won’t even see come to light.

Magnus tells him the secret about the masks, how they"ll morph to a new shape, one that's reflective of who they are. He's not sure if Alec takes it well because he doesn't respond, simply nodding to say that he heard him loud and clear.

Pulling up at the Institute, Alec becomes aware of how much he’s a ghost in all of this, a side thought for a bigger picture. Glancing to Magnus, watching him already adjust his collar, Alec wonders if there’s a different plan, a plan _B_ that involves Alec in more ways than one.

The noise and glaring red lights of the car attract attention. Not only is the car ridiculously expensive, it’s unique, and things like that turn heads, especially when the whole reason behind this event tonight is the man sitting inside that very car.

Magnus always turns heads, and frankly, Alec already knew that. He’s been a witness of feeling his will twirled around Magnus’ fingers, to pull that puppet string on his heart.

Alec can’t tell if it’s a weakness to fall for him, or it's Magnus’ magic playing tricks. Some part of him wants to know, wants to understand. Perhaps tonight, Alec will get to understand part of it, and with that, a new possible path.

Something is bothering him, though, a factor he hasn't spoken about, but hinted. It’s better if Magnus knows, especially if they’re going to be in public together, pretending to be something they’re not.

"I can't lie, Bane," he whispers, almost as if he didn't want to say it. "If they ask me, I can't lie."

"You're a demon, a trickster," Magnus replies, not letting the shock of Alec confessing something about him get to his resolve right now. "Find a way around it. Find a way to _lie."_

_Easier said than done._

Alec takes one more glance at all the people outside, how some stare and whisper. They're practically vultures, knowing that whoever sits in that car is no parts angelic. Magnus is, and Alec knows that.

It keeps the spark of hatred alive.

"Ready to play the part?" Alec asks, not looking at him.

"I am." Magnus doesn't look at him either, reminding themselves that this isn't real, that this is for a mission and nothing more. "Remember, we need to find information about Valentine. Speak to as many people as you can, and I'll be there to answer with you incase your blunt honesty can't be avoided."

“Always a gentleman, Bane.” Alec remarks, leaving the engine on so the red headlights still shine as he steps out.

As he grips the door handle, letting the door rise up on its own, Alec places on his mask, feels the magic grip to his skin and haze over the red of his eyes. It morphs, shifts to a wolf mask, the embroidered details still there.

Now, he’s ready to play.

Walking around to the other side of the car, Alec gives a million dollar smile to the vultures, buttoning up his suit once as he makes his way. Once at Magnus’ door, he lifts it up, the hiss of the hydraulics in the background as Magnus steps out.

Alec offers his arm, Magnus hesitating, but gripping his forearm, using it as leverage to pull himself out of the low car. Thankfully, there’s fabric between their skin, because the curse that waits patiently beneath Alec’s skin is ever present.

“Bane,” he says, taking a deep breath, trying to keep his composure when Magnus links an arm with him, “are you ready?”

“As I’ll ever be.”

Pressing a button on his keys, the doors of the hypercar close by themselves. Everyone is rather shocked that there _is_ a car here, considering portals are readily available for all of the Shadowhunters, even _Magnus_ himself can make one.

He’s definitely making a statement by arriving in style, _and_ with a new face on his arm. Applying his mask as they walk up the stairs, Magnus’ shifts to an elk, golden antlers swirling back into his hair.

Alec glances at him from the corner of his eye, admiring how the magic shimmers from the gold it creates, how incredibly royal he looks. Even if only half of their faces are covered, people know it’s Magnus Bane.

Magnus is a leader, and the antlers of his mask are his crown. Alec is a lone wolf, thrown to the wild in hopes of finding a new pack to call home. When he said the masks would be reflective, Alec didn’t think it’d be _this._ In fact, he doesn’t know what Magnus’ mask truly means, and he’s not sure of his own, but Alec can only guess that it reflects the dark nature present inside.

Or, it could mean something different _entirely._

A carpet is laid out for arriving guests, a light blue that matches the dangling fairy lights, a cold yet warming hue of blues that symbolize being on cloud nine. It’s rather beautiful, and Magnus is envious he _didn’t_ follow the theme if Isabelle did such a good job.

Nevertheless, he’s here, clean cut in his deep red suit, Alec linked with him as they almost match. They’re clearly here together, and various people still turn heads as whispers start to chime. Magnus dips his head, smiling in the shadow of his mask.

Many of Magnus’ warlock friends in New York are here, thankfully Catarina isn’t or explaining Alec would’ve been incredibly awkward.

Perhaps he’ll tell her one day. He hopes he can.

Alec keeps silent beside him, head forward as a waiter approaches them, walking into the Institute with an aura that demands respect, demands power. They’re subtle but sharp, Alec’s small stubble making him look a little rough, but it blends in with the rest of him.

Given glasses of champagne, they thank the waiter, and Magnus takes a glance at the liquid before taking his first sip.

Taking a sip of his own, Alec revels in being able to taste it. It’s refreshing, but a little bland.

“First impression?”

Alec turns to him. “Hmm?”

“Decorations,” Magnus lifts his glass of champagne to the general area. “Wished you had followed the theme?”

A beat of silence follows, then Alec is looking at him, _really_ looking at him as the bass of the music slowly drowns into the background. He’s admiring him from head to toe, lingering on his mask, and his fingers twitch with wanting to do something.

“No,” Alec says, “not at all.”

Magnus smiles, unaware of it until Alec drops his gaze to his lips. That’s when he turns away, and his heart sinks at what his eyes land on next.

The Inquisitor, approaching fast.

“Magnus Bane,” she greets them, casting a quick glance towards Alec as their arms remain linked. “It’s a pleasure to have you here.”

“Thank _you_ for inviting me, Inquisitor.” Magnus would do a small bow, but the Clave will never get one out of him.

“I must be honest with you,” and isn’t _that_ a shock to hear from the Inquisitor’s mouth, “I was afraid you wouldn’t turn up.”

No sign from Alec. She isn’t lying.

“Well, who am I to deny a party invitation, am I right? That’s what your records say about me, is it not?”

She doesn’t seem too keen in replying to that, and Alec starts smiling at how there’s a slight tremble of fear. If anything, the Inquisitor expected Magnus to come alone, not with another person who seems to be something other than mundane.

Clearing her throat, she moves on.

“And who is this?”

Alec keeps quiet, allowing Magnus to introduce him how he wants to.

“This is Alec,” replies Magnus, gesturing towards him with his other hand, the one not link with Alec’s arm. “He’s my plus one for the night.”

“Ah, I see,” she says. “A new lover? Well, we welcome you, Alec.”

Nodding, Alec gives that as his thanks. He’s going to play as mysterious as possible, because it’s more fun that way, and he doesn’t have to keep following Magnus around like a lost puppy. For Magnus to turn up with him is strange in itself, so many people who were whispering about them on the way in are still looking over, admiring how well they look as a couple.

“Please enjoy the party, gentlemen.” the Inquisitor raises her hands, a waiter walking over to offer Magnus and Alec small treats. “I’ll talk to you in a moment, as I have to make sure everything is running smoothly.”  The waiter turns away when Magnus dismisses him, not wanting any snacks.

And without a moment’s notice, she leaves, as if she was _itching_ to leave their presence. Alec can’t help but allow his smile to grow.

“She hates us,” he says, turning to speak directly into Magnus’ ear, “and she was never expecting _me_ to be here, either.”

_Neither was I, Alec._

“You can hear it in her voice,” Magnus replies, ignoring the pin prick of a thought. “It’s clear that this is an effort to win me over while disguising it as something else. I’m sure a few questions about the supposed _real_ reason I’m meant to be here will make her second guess their chances.”

Alec is about to tease, but then a lady is approaching them, a wide smile on her face.

“Magnus? You never told me you were bringing a _date?”_ Isabelle is dressed in a gorgeous, gradient blue dress, elegant mask swirling with floral details and subtle jewells. Magnus knew it’d be a winner when he made it.

But that thought quickly subsides when Alec perks up beside him, smiling at Isabelle.

“You must be Magnus’ friend.” Alec would offer out his hand to greet her, fingers twitching with the thought of doing so, but it remains holding his glass of champagne. “You look wonderful, miss.”

“Why thank you, sir.” She does a little curtsey, holding out her dress.

“Isabelle, this is Alec,” Magnus starts, introducing them to each other. “And Alec, this is the Head of the New York Institute, Isabelle Lightwood.”

Alec flinches, looking from Magnus to Isabelle. But the thought shrugs itself away when Magnus starts speaking again.

“I completely forgot to tell you about him, Isabelle. My apologies.”

“Must not be memorable, huh?” she teases, laughing when Alec clicks his tongue, amused she’d even throw back such a comment. It does hit a nerve, though, but having Magnus so close keeps him strangely calm.

“Oh, I beg to differ,” Alec replies, looking to Magnus. “Isn’t that right, dear?”

Magnus scoffs at him, “Don’t inflate your ego so much.”

Isabelle frowns, not seeing casual banter, but actual truth in the way Magnus tries to not look his way. She can’t help but ask.

“Then why are you with him?”

And for Magnus, it’s easy to answer, as strange as that thought is.

“There’s something about him.” Now, he chooses to look Alec’s way, watching his teasing smile fade to one of blatant confusion.

_He’s not lying._

Alec swallows, forces himself to at the words dying on his tongue. He wants to ask, _desperately; what is it?_

With the act still in play, Alec forces a smile, half lie half truth, and he simply turns away, pretending to be blushing even though he’s torn on what Magnus’ words mean.

“Oh, that’s so cute,” Isabelle coos, hugging her hands around her champagne glass tighter. “You make a lovely couple.”

“I keep telling him that, but he doesn’t believe me.” Alec gets one back at him, turning to face him again as Magnus looks away, somewhat irritated _and_ amused by that statement.

“Well, Alec, if you break his heart, you’ll have me to answer to!”

Alec blinks, a little shocked. “Oh, of course.” He exchanges glances with Magnus. “But I wouldn’t wish to do such a thing, so you have nothing to worry about.”

Magnus feels his chest warm, knowing that whatever words come out of Alec’s mouth are ones of truth. However, Magnus _was_ the person to say Alec should find a way around it, to twist his words as a demon should in order to lie.

Some part of him hopes he’s _not_ lying, that he’s speaking the truth, even though that truth is hard to swallow.

Isabelle looks between them, smiling, a little curious as to how they’re even a _thing,_ but she’s happy that Magnus seems to be content, if not enjoying something new.

“Well, _Alec,_ If you don’t mind I’d like to steal your man for a moment.” She walks a step closer, holding her hand out. “I have to talk business with him.”

Alec blinks. _My man?_

Oh, right. _Shit._

“Of course.” Clearing his throat, taking a quick sip to soothe the ache, Alec unlinks with Magnus. He frowns as soon as the contact is gone, the area in which they touched feeling strange. “But don’t be too long. I’ll miss him.”

Isabelle coos again, linking her arm with Magnus’. “You two are incredibly sappy. I didn’t think Magnus Bane would fall for such an angel.”

Alec freezes, feels something rattle in his bones.

Magnus sees Alec’s uncomfortable twitch, picking up the silence before it breaks Alec.

“He’s far from that, dear, but you _could_ be right.” Looking at Alec as he says that, Alec frowns, wanting to ask.

He knows Magnus isn’t lying, but curiosity isn’t easy to judge.

“I’ll take care of him, don’t worry!” Isabelle says, leading Magnus away as Alec lingers on Magnus’ eyes.

As soon as Magnus breaks away, Alec feels his heart sink, grips his heart with his free hand and takes a breath. Why on _earth_ does that feel so weird? To watch him leave knowing he’s going to come back anyway?

Why is he even bothered by that? This is all fake. This is all a _lie._

Deciding to distract himself with the job at hand, Alec mingles. Various people actually have a decent conversation with him, recommending various trinket shops they’ve seen on patrols and asking what Alec actually is. Of course, Alec can’t lie, so he responds with what he can think of. _A bit of everything_ is what he says, and most of them laugh, calling him mysterious, and the other half eye him as if he has a secret to hide.

His easy and devilish charm gets him by without a second thought, and before long, he’s walking over to the food on his own, wondering what to pick for his growling stomach. Now that he has the sense of taste, not that he knew he’d even _lost_ it, he’s eager to try mundane food before the sense is gone again.

Picking up a small cake, Alec hums at the taste of the small treat, looking around absently.

And his eyes land on Magnus. He’s tipping his head back, laughing, another glass of bubbly held carefully between his fingers. Even from this far away, he’s shining, standing out with the contrast of colours around him. He’s truly a demon surrounded by angels, but Alec would argue it’s the other way around.

Something grips his throat, and he coughs, ripping his eyes away from Magnus before he’ll think thoughts he shouldn’t. He’ll have to continue the mission soon, and try to get _actual, useful_ information out of people instead of what shows to watch on a sunday evening.

Alec’s not left alone for long, though, as the Inquisitor is already making the rounds. And by that, she’s asking questions about Magnus, specifically focused on Alec when she reaches him. Unfortunately for Alec, he’s the first one to be asked such questions, and part of him dies with knowing he’ll have to skirt around the truth he can’t avoid willingly.

“Have you known Magnus Bane long?” asks the Inquisitor, the fake smile not fooling Alec one bit.

“I know him well,” replies Alec, keeping one hand in his pocket and the other holding his glass of champagne. “Do _you?”_

She blinks, not expecting such a question. “What do you mean by that? Of course I do, I’m rather fond of him.”

Voices whisper in his head, and Alec clicks his tongue. A lie.

“Interesting,” he purses his bottom lip for a moment, wondering how he should say his next few words, “I don’t believe you.”

Silence, and then she laughs. Alec doesn’t laugh with her, just smiles, and the other council members beside her feel the awkward tension in the air. There’s not much to the laugh when it’s so forced, and Alec spares a glance to the room around him, waiting for her to finish.

“You’re rather funny, Alec.”

“A compliment from a nephilim?” He can’t believe his luck. “Times really are changing.”

Alec sees the moment she has to bite her tongue. “As they should be.”

And just at that moment, he feels a hand on his bicep, Magnus coming to stand beside him, leaning into him casually. “Council, I see you’ve met my love.”

The council collectively straighten themselves, and Magnus doesn’t take his eyes off them until one of them replies. If they’re going to try and win him over, they need to try harder.

“We have,” one of them starts, looking to Alec and blinking when they think they see red in his eyes. “Rather charming.”

“He does that,” replies Magnus, looking up to Alec and smiling. “May I steal you for a moment?”

Alec can’t help but smirk, answering Magnus’ question with ease. “Of course, Bane.”

Nodding to the council, the pretend couple make their way to a spot at the side of the hall, away from prying ears and eyes. But, since Magnus is the focus on the night, that means Alec is too, and both of them together means even if they try and act incognito, someone will _always_ be watching.

As they reach the wall, Magnus places his back against it, taking holding of Alec’s lapels and bringing him closer.

Alec has a second to raise his hands, looking down to Magnus in feint shock.

Magnus is looking over his shoulder, and Alec suddenly remembers that they’re faking it. _Right._

Swallowing, Alec looks away from his eyes, down to the choker on his neck, “We’re moving fast, Bane. You want to be this close already, and I haven’t even been with you on a date yet.”

And this close encounter becomes heavy for Alec’s lungs when Magnus looks up at him, their slight height difference making this hell, because Alec’s struggling not to look down to his lips. There’s something warm in his stomach, fingers tingling.

_Adrenaline._

“We’re _fake dating,_ remember?” Magnus looks back over Alec’s shoulder, trying to tell his own heart to settle down. “If I don’t steal you away to talk in private and gossip about the guests, then what kind of couple are we?”

“One that isn’t real?” he whispers, and that makes Magnus pay attention to him again, silent as he stares into Alec’s hazel eyes, wondering how long the glamor will last until that piercing red will return.

“I thought you were Mr Optimistic,” quips Magnus, placing both hands on Alec’s chest, not applying any pressure. It’s rather frightening that a piece of clothing is the only thing between Magnus’ skin and the curse of Alec’s. “I thought you would jump at the chance to be this close so you can whisper a world’s worth of desire to me.”

Alec bites his lip. “You know, you’re right,” he breathes, finally settling his gaze on Magnus’ eyes again, “but I’m finding it difficult.”

Frowning, Magnus isn’t sure what to take from those words. His face is blank, and Magnus can usually read people even with the most distant expression, but he can’t see what Alec’s thinking. He’s even more confused when Alec drops his gaze again, almost as if he’s fighting the urge to look at him, battling whatever demons are ripping him apart from the inside, to take and take until there’s nothing left.

The music in the background shifts to something slow, and everyone is taking partners to dance with. Magnus would ask, he’d _jump_ at the chance to dance with his partner for the night, but Alec can’t even hold his hand.

Something about that _twists_ Magnus' gut. He's only just faintly registering that Alec's hands are still hovering beside them. If they're meant to be a couple, Alec looks like he's afraid of being one.

Magnus can't force him, and frankly he doesn't want him to, no matter the circumstances they're in. So, instead, Magnus does what he can.

"Your hands," he says.

"What about them?"

"Put them somewhere," Magnus nods downwards. "Your pockets."

"Oh." Alec does as he's told, and now they're people simply enjoying being close without the need for touching. Magnus still has his hands placed on Alec’s chest, but there's still not enough pressure for Alec to feel it.

Magnus smiles, a faint one. "Now you don't look like you're scared of me."

Alec can't lie, so he won't say anything at all.

So he bites his tongue, because he _is_ scared. He knows what that means, felt it when he fell, cursed him as he walked the burning plains alone.

But _this_ is different. There's nothing to be scared of except a trip back home to Edom, and Magnus is exactly that. However, rules are set in place so that doesn't happen, and as long as he follows them, Alec has no reason to be scared.

Standing there, watching Magnus look over his shoulder again, Alec thinks of _what_ he's so frightened of.

His curse. The inevitable future and the uncertainty of it. Losing control, losing what he's hoping to find.

All of those things haunt him to no end, and facing his fears is something he never thought he'd have to do. Magnus is here, and he's real, and he's godly in a way that his own magic stands no chance against him.

Magnus is the inevitable. Alec hates it.

"What did the Inquisitor say to you?" Magnus finally breaks the silence, disregarding his own words from moments ago.

"Asked me how well I knew you," Alec replies, no hint of the war he's fighting inside his own mind.

"And what did you reply?"

Dipping his head, he speaks to Magnus’ ear, watches him lean a little closer. “Well enough.”

Magnus hums, breaking from their close contact the moment some people start clapping. A couple has taken center stage, and Magnus watches with interest. Alec, however, can’t keep his eyes off Magnus, the mask on his face hiding yet adding to the beauty Magnus possesses. It irritates Alec how when half of his face is hidden, Magnus still somehow steals the show.

“I’d ask you to dance,” says Alec, “but that’d make it a bit too real.”

Looking back to him, Magnus wonders how long Alec has been focusing on him. There’s so much hidden in those hazel eyes, a past and truth Magnus is still yet to find.

“We can’t be having that.” Magnus replies, lifting one hand, thumb gently touching over the surface of Alec’s mask near his nose.

Alec holds his breath, poison rushing to the surface of his skin in anticipation of a touch, but that feeling dies after a few seconds. There’s no fear, no awaiting the coming storm, and even though there’s an object between Magnus and Alec’s skin, his curse settles, doesn’t prepare to ignite.

He’s calm. Confusingly so.

Perhaps, there’s a way to trick his own curse. But just as Alec’s thinking of possibilities, Magnus is thinking of the mission, breaking out of his own questions to simply act as the couple they’re meant to be.

“On your right,” starts Magnus, pretending to admire Alec as he brushes over the detail of Alec’s wolven mask. “Someone is rather interested in you.”

“Can’t say I’m flattered,” Alec replies easily, smooth with his words. “I already have you.”

Something sharp pricks Magnus’ heart at that.

“Alec.” He’s stern, almost commanding. _“Focus.”_

“Right, right. The _mission,”_ Alec complains with a small sigh, but he’s breaking out of his _flirt mode_ quicker than Magnus takes to realise that Alec can’t _lie._

_I already have you._

Those words nail themselves inside Magnus’ mind, painful and confusing as to why they’re there, but it’s a problem he’ll have to deal with when there’s time for it. Right now, he’s more focused on the guy who has been on the phone ever since Magnus and Alec walked into the venue.

He’s racking up one hefty phone bill. Or, he’s using it as a distraction for something else he’s making contact through, Magnus isn’t blind to dodgy business like that. He’s older than everyone here, _and_ he owns a club.

“Want me to talk to him?”

Magnus nods, looking away from Alec and towards the crowd. “I’ve been watching him discreetly. He’s the only one standing out, and I don’t know if it’s on purpose or not.”

“And there’s only one way to find out,” Alec concludes, taking a deep breath, reluctant to pull away from Magnus. “What if something goes wrong?” Alec speaks again, the other words he wanted to say dying on his tongue.

He can only laugh at that, Magnus finding a few seconds to smile at him.

“Then I’ll be your knight in shining armour,” comforts Magnus, catching the small twitch of Alec’s smile. “Does that sound fair to you?”

“That you’ll save me if I find myself in trouble? Sounds like a fair deal to me.”

_Deal._

But Magnus isn’t going to be making any more of those.

Leaning in, Alec whispers to Magnus’ ear once more, feeling the tighter grip on his suit from Magnus’ hands.

“I’ll see you soon.”

He steps back, once, twice, and then he’s turning around, pulling his gaze away from the man that he admires. Alec isn’t shy of admitting that, but Magnus doesn’t need to know. He probably already does, anyway. Alec isn’t exactly subtle.

 

_\- - - - -_

 

Alec makes himself look busy, greeting a few more people while he’s allowed to, all while keeping a close eye on _phone guy._ He still hasn’t moved, and he keeps twitching his fingers, thumb rubbing against one of his fingers.

He’s definitely dodgy, and Alec doesn’t like it, not when Magnus is in the same hall.

So, he makes quick work of heading over, not too quick to startle, doing the _I caught your eye and I’m coming to see if you’re interested_ walk. He’s not attractive at _all_ to Alec, but he’s going to have to pretend for this.

When he reaches him, Alec takes a sip of his new glass of bubbly, gesturing towards him as he starts speaking, then bringing his hand back towards his chest.

“Say, you keep looking over. Dare I think you’re interested in me?” Alec questions him with a sly turn of his smile, adding a little charm to his tone that works far more than it should.

The guy on the phone doesn’t put it down, doesn’t even move, and suddenly Alec wonders if he’s actually a living thing.

“You’re Magnus’ guest for tonight, correct?” Finally, he speaks, and Alec nods at his question. “I’m interested in asking you a few questions regarding the Clave’s future endeavours.”

“Shouldn’t that be saved for a more formal meeting?”

He squints at Alec, keeping the phone to his ear. “On the contrary, this whole event is for that reason. Did you not know that?”

Of course he did, but surely there’s meant to be fun at a masquerade, not formal meetings. “If that’s true, then this is a rather boring excuse to dress up. Not that I’m complaining, however.” He looks over the rim of his glass as he tips some more down his throat.

“So, if you’d like to be the first of tonight’s discussion, you can follow me down the hall where more of us are waiting.”

“And who might they be? Your _friends_ ready to send me back to hell?” Alec is clearly not a Shadowhunter, so being truthful about where he comes from will sit nicely. Besides, as far as Alec knows, half of these people don’t care where the Downworlders end up, as long as it’s not heaven.

The man laughs, but keeps monotone, clicking something on the screen with his thumb. “Far from it, they’re lovely people. We simply care about the future, that’s all.”

Alec’s gut churns. He’s lying, but he’s also telling the truth. It’s confusing, and Alec concludes that the only way he’s going to figure him out is if he agrees. If he follows them, he’ll be able to ask in _private_ why they’re here, and why he’s so attached to that dumb device.

He can look after himself, and Magnus said he’ll save him if something goes wrong. Deep down, he doesn’t want it to come to that, because only fate knows _what_ Alec he’ll save.

“Alright, I’ll come along,” Alec says. “Perhaps it’ll break you away from your phone for once.”

Such words make the Shadowhunter smirk, Alec’s eyes dropping to his neck and noticing a scar he’s not familiar with. He gingerly touches the side of his own neck, swallowing a pain nailed deep inside his past, hidden away from the world, hidden away from _Magnus._

Speaking of Magnus, Alec catches his glance on the way out of the hall, looking over his shoulder and sending a small smile Alec’s way. It’s reassuring, releasing the tension he holds so tightly in his fists. Placing down his glass of bubbly, Alec tails behind the man, joined by another as they walk halfway down the hall.

It’s only when they’re out of sight does Alec realise there’s a glamour on the man’s neck, weak enough for Alec’s gift of truth to break through. The burnt scar isn’t meant to be seen by eyes except who the man trusts, and Alec suddenly thinks that he’s not alone in that matter.

 

\- - - - -

 

Alec follows with curiosity. They’re somehow telling the truth, that whatever this _discussion_ will be outside of eager and gossiping ears, it’s important. But from how the room looks when he steps inside, a distinct lack of _anything,_ Alec fears that he’s walked into a trap.

But, it’s too early to make assumptions, even if the phone guy messes with something on that very phone, bringing it up to his ear and speaking once more.

“We have him,” and that makes Alec’s eyes widen. “Commencing interview.”

Oh, so it’s not what Alec thought it’d be.

Another man steps into the room, and soon, more turn up, surrounding Alec as the demons stands there, nonchalant with hands in his pockets. There’s no way these men are all in agreement with each other, not when some wear the scar and some don’t.

Perhaps trainees looking to prove their worth?

“You are Magnus Bane’s lover, no?” a man asks, hair blonde and beard trimmed.

“I am a lover of sorts, yes,” Alec replies, weaving around the truth to say he _is_ an admirer. Especially for Magnus.

“Well, whatever you are to him, you walked in with that warlock and intend to leave with him.” The way he talks demands answers, but Alec simply clicks his tone.

“Your tone and how you speak of him tell me you’re not happy with the Clave’s wishes to better your world.” Alec takes one hand out of his pocket, shuffling his tie. “If I were you, I’d be friendly to me.”

“Oh, we’re not the Clave.” A grin splits his lips. “We’re better than they are, fixing mistakes they couldn’t, you see.”

“No, I don’t see,” he argues back, but Alec shows no sign of being intimidated. If they touch Alec, there’s not much he can do to make them regret it, the curse will do that for them.

“You will,” the man replies, looking to a comrade behind Alec, nodding.

Alec would turn, but he feels something burning behind his eyes. Wolves are waking up.

“What are your intentions, Shadowhunter?”

He tips his head, expression wicked, “We’re here to cause a stir. We can’t have the Clave kissing up to Downworlders, not when we’re so against them.”

Alec flicks his vision to the guy on the phone, and a second of concentration to read his lips makes Alec aware of what information he’s transferring.

_“What do you want us to do, boss?”_

Nothing follows except a slight movement of his hand. Alec can’t do anything, can’t hurt them even if they’re the enemy. He’s in a building of people that still don’t know he exists, and the more he stays _normal,_ the more chances they have of doing this deal with attracting unwanted attention.

“You’ll have to elaborate,” Alec speaks between grit teeth, already feeling his blood boil from the dire way he speaks about Downworlders. “And be quick about it, I’m _not_ a patient man.”

“Rushing to get back to your precious Downworlder? Well, maybe we will while you still have time with him.”

A switch flicks, and Alec feels the moment the glamour of his masks _melts._ There’s barely seconds left until the colour red will burn free.

“Say that again, and I’ll make you wish you didn’t.”

“I could say the same for you.” And with no warning, a blade is brought up, glowing with angelic power as it drives through Alec’s stomach. “Bane’s precious lover banished back to whatever hell they come from at a party intended for him, how _tragic.”_

And he _twists,_ grinning wider as Alec’s body curls in to the blade, teeth gritting with the sudden intrusion.

But the man’s grin doesn’t last long. It settles with a confused frown, because there’s no scream, no blood pouring from his lips or falling embers sizzling into ashes.

Alec’s hushed as he breathes, clenching his jaw as he swallows, looking down at his hands. Veins are turning black beneath his skin, his eyes flickering to a more potent, volatile red. Alec is losing focus on his own portrayal to the outside world, demonic blood starting to spark.

There’s a _growl,_ thundering deep within Alec’s chest as he slowly looks up to the Shadowhunter who damned him with the blade. Flashes of a fate he’s already met stir inside, bleeding with revenge.

"It's going to take a lot more than that." Alec's jaw locks tight after his words, the room twisting with the weight of his demonic magic. "The angels made sure of it."

He looks up, the whites of his eyes inking black, the peaceful hazel Magnus graced him with turning an ill, demonic red as black veins spread from the boundaries of his eyes. Lips part to reveal canines that sharpen, and red magic sparks from his knuckles, wrapping around his palm to infuse his skin with the power of a thousand suns.

“Holy _shit...”_ The warrior blinks, stepping back, hands starting to shake. No demon should survive a seraph blade that far in.

“Oh, I’m not holy,” quips Alec, reaching for the end of the blade, gritting his teeth as he pulls it from his stomach. Blood is spilling out of the wound, but only for a moment before it begins to heal. “And you’re lucky I’m on a strict contract.”

“Contract?” The man in the far back on the phone finally speaks up. “You’re a demon?”

Alec grins this time, taking a deep breath.

“Yeah, I’m a demon.” Alec keeps hold of the sword, and to the shock of everyone in the room, the runes glow a deep, demonic red. “What are you? Idiots? You _stink_ of sin, and not the pleasant kind, either.”

“Any demon would say that,” says one of the warriors to Alec’s left, “they’re jealous of our kind. We are everything they want to be.”

Alec gazes at him, but Alec doesn’t turn his head.

“Is that so?” His voice has dropped an octave, inked with something evil lingering beneath the undertone.

And before _any_ of them can move, Alec raises one hand and clicks his fingers. The lights go out, and they’re in complete darkness.

Calling out orders, the reluctant warriors raises their weapons, pointing them like torches out into the dark, hoping to catch the prey before it pounces them. The guy on the phone is struggling to collect his blade from his holster, and as seconds go by, he’s aware of the breathing down the side of his neck.

 _“Need a hand with that?”_ His voice sends splinters down the man’s spine, causing him to lash out with his elbow, only for it to be caught by a warm hand.

Alec curses under his breath. He shouldn’t have done that. He shouldn’t be _fighting them._

In seconds, the man’s skin blisters, alights with embers so strong that the pain causes the warrior to break, screaming out in panicked agony as he tries to put the flames out. They’re stubbornly eternal, and his skin becomes ash, flesh and bone melting away.

Red eyes show no remorse from the side, as Alec simply watches the flames swallow him whole, catching the phone as it falls from the hand of the now quivering man. He can’t stop them. No one can.

He’s seen it happen before. There’s no changing how it makes him feel _empty._

Alec looks down at him, the warlock mark Magnus sealed their contract with burning as the rules he placed upon him slowly break. He can’t feel it, can’t feel how it should hurt, but he knows it’s shining out in the dark.

The other men, they stand back, helpless and frankly not _wanting_ to help in risk they’ll share the same fate.

As Alec’s darned luck would have it, the lights of the room turn on, and the embers of Alec’s curse no longer provide the main source of light. There are brighter, more powerful eyes than his own in the room, golden with history only a man worthy enough of knowledge can possess.

A dull thud sounds behind him, and Alec doesn’t register it until a voice he’s come to admire beckons authority.

_“Enough!”_

Alec is forced against the wall from a volley of red magic, banging his head as he falls to his feet, sliding down until he reaches the floor.

Magnus is here to save the day, as usual. Alec can only watch as the fated happens again, another individual trying to save what Alec has destroyed.

But to his surprise, it happens.

The screaming dies, and a mellow, soothing _thank you_ reaches through the air.

Alec squints, turns his head, and can’t believe what he sees. The flames are gone, Magnus’ magic stuffing them out as if they’re nothing.

“I--” stutters Alec, and his voice makes Magnus frown, fighting his will to look at him. “That’s not _possible.”_

With the phone in his hand, rightfully shutting down from overheating, Alec still doesn’t know who was on the other side of that phone call, and he didn’t even keep his cool enough to find out who these people are.

Magnus doesn’t seem to be listening, focusing on zapping the memories from the man’s mind, a string of blue magic connected from the man’s temple to the tips of Magnus’ fingers. Surely, they should be worried about the other hunters, but Alec’s quick glance confirms they’re out cold from Magnus’ quick and precise command of magic.

“You have explaining to do,” is all he says, making Alec turn back to him, slowly standing up. “Having broken one of the rules, you better have a good excuse for--” Magnus halts, fingertips cutting off the deletion process as he focuses on the Shadowhunter’s neck.

A circle is burned onto his skin, a familiar mark that fills Magnus with hatred.

 _Valentine_. These are Valentine’s men.

“Bane,” Alec’s voice breaks him from the fury that starts to dwell inside, standing back, “I can explain--”

“Not now.” Magnus raises his hand, and Alec obeys. He’s silent as Magnus turns to him, an expression on his face Magnus can’t read. “We need to leave, _now.”_

Magnus starts walking towards him, and Alec gulps, afraid that he’ll be sent back before he’s been given a chance to plead he’s innocent, but Alec knows he’s not.

Either way, all Magnus does is grab his suit lapels, tugging him towards the door and stopping before Magnus can even reach for the handle.

Footsteps. Guards.

“Are we just leaving them here?” Alec whispers, looking down to the floor, hearing the same footsteps outside.

“They’ll know if I’ve portalled people out of here. I can’t risk the Clave on my back, not when these men are who they’re looking for.”

“Looking for?” Alec turns back to look at them, eyes lingering on the man who felt the curse of the fallen.

“I’ll explain later,” Magnus replies, and Alec fucking _sighs_ in relief that Magnus mentions _later._ Thank whatever god that knows he exists. “But now, we need a plan.”

Magnus doesn’t seem to be bothered by what Alec did, and it confuses Alec, frightens him too. These may be his last minutes of freedom, and as the warlock marking on his neck still burns, Alec wonders if his does.

Looking down to the hand still gripping the lapel of his suit, Alec’s thoughts are confirmed. They both burn with a sin only Alec committed. His stomach drops, feeling heavy, and Alec has to take a deep breath.

 _Fuck._ Why does that feel so weird to think? _What_ is he feeling?

The footsteps are gone, and Magnus reaches for the handle of the door.

Before Alec can redeem himself, he’s being pulled from the room, dragged down the hall and thrown into another room that has no lighting whatsoever. He’s pretty sure the end of a broom forks into his back, and he can’t argue against it when the light from the hall fades out.

Magnus shuts the door on them, and darkness consumes the tiny store room.

Alec would _really_ love to tease right now, but he assumes there’s no right time, not when he’s broken one of _Magnus Bane’s rules._ But Magnus isn’t saying anything, just listening, hands against the door as if he’s _waiting_ for Alec to do _something._

Footsteps waddle outside, then pick up in speed as voices shout. They’ve found the room.

With the initial panic over, Magnus suddenly grows aware of how close they are, how he can feel Alec’s chest against his back, and the warmth of his breath on the back of his neck. There’s no way he’ll turn around, doesn’t dare being any closer.

“First of all,” starts Magnus, speaking to the door, “I don’t want you to explain what happened right now. We’ll deal with that tomorrow, alright?”

Magnus listens as Alec swallows, a small shift as he moves before replying, “Yeah.”

“So, please...” Magnus turns around, struggles, but pushes Alec back a little so he can summon a palm full of magic between them. Alec’s face lights up with a hue of blue, calming. His mask still hides his red eyes, but he imagines that wasn’t the case a few minutes ago. “Care to joke a little? I’m sure there are plenty of them right now in your head, considering our current predicament.”

Alec can’t help but smile, tension easing from his chest, but it piles back on when Magnus looks down to the rip in his suit. The wound has already healed, but his clothes haven’t. Magnus moves to touch, but his fingertips settle on the fabric next to the ripped part, knowing magic will fix this quickly.

“Well, considering you said you didn’t want to be close to me, that this is strictly business,” Alec gestures a flat hand between them, a hand width apart, “this is quite close quarters, don’t you think?”

“At least this time you’re not trembling like a chicken.” Magnus adds, chuckling as Alec’s scoff. He’s glad they can lift the mood quickly, as he’s sure Alec doesn’t want to remember what happened. There’s no denying the hesitation in Alec’s eyes when he realised what he’d done, the fear in his voice when he saw Magnus control his flames. It was a fear of the unknown.

“Ah, what can I say?” He smirks in the dim light, looking down as Magnus slowly repairs the ripped fabric, making it pristine once again. “You make me speechless.”

“Your flirting needs some work, Alec.” He pats his stomach when the suit stitches itself back together, noticing no flinch. Either the wound never hurt him at all, or he just couldn’t feel it.

Either thought makes Magnus somber.

“I’d rather behave than be sent back to Edom. I’m not a fan of that place despite what my generous story says.”

“Aren’t rules meant to be broken, though?” questions Magnus, tilting his head as he moves his hand away, making sure his mask is still intact, then fiddling with his ear cuff. There’s very little room to move in here.

“If this is a test, I don’t like it.” Alec sighs. “Please move on. I love teasing, but not this kind, unfortunately.”

That makes Magnus pause, because usually, he’d jump at the chance to flirt or breathe down his neck. What has possibly happened recently to break him from that mindset?

Or, just maybe, Alec is changing. Or, this is who he is anyway, no matter what the books have to say about him. He’s not been the bloodthirsty, revenge-bent monster his prophecy predicts him to be, and there’s _barely_ any prophecy there to begin with.

“You’re an enigma, Alec.”

“A what?” Alec perks a brow, not understanding what that word means.

“Look it up next time you use the internet.” Magnus frowns. “Or read a book.”

“Ever enlightening, aren’t we Bane.” Alec smiles as he does, and they stay like that.

And in those moments of shared silence, Magnus notices the distinct lack of a heavy aura, the unbearable heat from his first summoning. Surely, this close he’d feel the wrath of Edom’s warrior without Alec even blinking, but there’s only a heavy warmth radiating from Alec, enough to stop the cold draft rolling up from the gap in the door behind them.

Alec parts his lips slightly, taking in the details of Magnus’ face for the first time, the blue light from the now drifting magic hovering in the air, making the glow angelic.

He wants to reach up, to lift up that mask and see his beauty whole again, but Alec knows he can’t. There’s images in his head, desires that twist and spark his blood, and Alec’s fighting them even though he looks at peace.

What would it be like to touch? To hold his cheek and tell him there’s no reason to feel broken? Alec can see the demons that haunt Magnus, the past vultures that claim his heart, and he’s never wanted to _take_ someone’s nightmares before, to help them sleep easy without fear of the dawn.

Magnus can see Alec’s hand rising, an attempt, but it falters halfway, fingers closing to a fist. His eyes widen, then blink a few times. He wonders what he was thinking about, why his thoughts controlled his reality instead of his own will.

When Alec closes his eyes, he takes a deep breath, and Magnus takes that as a sign to move things on.

“Did you find anything, first?”

Alec opens his eyes, solemn as he reaches into his pocket, trying to forget the images that dance through his mind, dreams that’ll fade to nothing when he’s gone from Magnus’ side again.

“I have his phone.” Alec hands it over, Magnus pressing the screen as it lights up. No lock. “He was still on it when I was in the room answering his questions.”

Taking that information, Magnus clicks on the phone’s contacts, shocked to find only one number.

It’s an unknown number, but considering he saw the circle on the Shadowhunter’s neck, he has a clear thought of who this might be. That means they’re close, closer than they’ve been, and Alec is right here to lure him out of the shadows. Magnus just needs to think of a solid plan, one that won’t cost any more than they can afford.

What they have, this information, a lead; it’s enough for now. Alec needs to breathe, to recover from losing control even though he’s showing no signs of needing it.

But the way his fingers twitch, his heavy breathing, trying his best to look at Magnus and read him tells a clear story. He’s wondering if Magnus is going to forgive him, to see it was a fault in his actions but not one of intentions.

“I’m all for parties, but I think we have enough to go on. Or would you like to stay?”

 _“No,”_ Alec breathes, tipping his head back as it hits the wall. “I’m done. I’ve had enough of today. I just want it to end.”

_I need to get away from you._

Magnus has a slight smile as he nods. “Alright, I’ll need to cover for us.”

“And how do you plan to do that?” Alec questions, flinching when Magnus reaches for his tie.

“Trust me, just play along.”

Alec keeps quiet, not needing to answer, but he does in his head.

_Aren’t we already doing that?_

 

\- - - - -

 

Minutes later they arrive back in the main hall, Alec reluctant as he follows, still feeling the shake in his fingers from the warmth of Edom’s flames. Isabelle catches sight of them quickly, rushing over.

"Where were you, Magnus?" Isabelle asks, checking over him to see if he's alright.

Alec keeps silent beside him, adjusting his tie as they walk back into the main hall, playing the act Magnus told him to play. Magnus clears his throat, giving his best smile, acting clueless.

"Excuse me, my dear," he places a hand on Alec's bicep, patting twice, "we had to go find somewhere a little-- _private."_

Isabelle connects the dots quicky. Alec's wild hair that the demon messed up himself, the way his shirt is rumpled and the small blush on his neck. "Oh, I see."

"Apologies," says Magnus, turning to look at Alec, smiling. "He's a real charmer." But he's turning away before Alec can do anything to stop it.

Alec parts his lips, about to say something, but he just runs his tongue along them instead, his mouth going dry all of a sudden. Those words shouldn't mean anything, but Alec is a fool. _Shit,_ he just wants to leave.

"Oh, _no no._ I understand." Isabelle quickly stutters, raising her hands in mild surrender. "I was worried something happened to you, because there's a demon in the Institute."

"A demon?" questions Magnus, and Alec doesn't know if the concerned expression he's wearing is for him or the game they're playing right now.

Alec's not sure if either of those options are good.

“Valentine’s men got in somehow, and it seems like they planned to release a demon into the Institute while the ball was going on. There’s scorch marks everywhere in that room, and there’s this-- _ill_ feeling inside there. I’m guessing Valentine caught word of the Clave softening up to a stronger alliance, and he obviously doesn’t want that.” Isabelle crosses her arms, shivers as she continues. “We all know he doesn’t want that.”

“Isabelle,” Magnus takes a step forward, hands on her arms, “I’m truly sorry. Please take care, won’t you? I will check the wards for you and make sure nothing is hiding in these walls, and then I fear Alec and I will have to take our leave.”

“Of course,” she smiles, solemn. “I think the ball is pretty much over.”

“I’m sorry it had to end like this, it’s truly wonderful what you’ve done for us Downworlders.” Magnus smiles at her, then directs his attention to the room around them. “I won’t forget it.”

Her smile grows, and it’s enough to show Magnus her thanks for such a compliment. Alec smiles too, but it doesn’t last, hoping this encounter doesn’t last so he can _leave._ The walls are closing in, and when they finally step through the front door after Magnus checks the wards, he takes a deep breath.

It still feels like he’s suffocating, and he doesn’t show signs of it, face blank.

Pulling out his keys, Alec beeps the car to unlock, the car awakening with the red headlights and details. It’s been sitting there, waiting for them to return. Alec opens Magnus’ door, but doesn’t wait around to close it for him, walking round to the driver’s side and moving to sit inside in seconds.

When the door closes and the windows hide them from the world, Alec closes his eyes.

_Thump. Thump. Thump._

A steady rhythm of power, his heart fighting against it. Magnus gives him time, but he can’t wait forever. If anything, his voice helps, and Alec doesn’t realise it until he stops speaking, missing it already.

“Alec,” Magnus says quietly, just for Alec to hear, even though it’s only them inside the car. “Care to take the scenic route back?”

He doesn’t know why, but Alec’s smile seems sad to Magnus, broken in ways a broken heart itself can’t understand.

“Yeah, I can do that.” Even though he doesn’t want to, somewhere deep down, he can’t say no, and some part of him _doesn’t_ want to say goodbye.

As the engine fires, Alec takes no time in leaving, and the further they drive away from the city, the more Alec sinks back into his seat, drowning out the world and even Magnus as it all blurs into one.

The screams of the man curse his thoughts again, causing his fingers to clench around the wheel. Time goes by without rules, and the more Magnus remains silent, the more those screams drown out anything he feels will be possible.

It’s only when they pull up at Magnus’ apartment complex that Alec exhales, having felt like he held his breath ever since he watched the flames of Edom consume that man.

Magnus is looking at him, and he knows, feeling him move slightly, as if leaning over to try and get Alec to look at him.

“Do you want to come up?” He asks, and Alec swallows the rock in his throat.

“No.” He grips the wheels again, loosening it seconds later when Magnus places a hand on his arm, only to have Alec flinch away from the touch. “I-- I don’t, no.”

“Alright.” Magnus smiles, thankful yet dismal. “You did well tonight.”

“Yeah,” is all Alec replies, follows by a quiet, “Sure.”

“We’ll talk more tomorrow.” Magnus lifts the door himself, seeing how focused Alec is on the road in front of him than Magnus himself. The game is over now, anyway. “Should I call you?”

Alec blinks, taking the time to finally turn and look at him. “Why are you asking me?”

The weight of that question doesn’t quite hit Magnus until Alec looks away again. He bites his bottom lip, at war with what he truly wants to say. He can’t lie, Alec will know.

“You need time, don’t you?”

Magnus feels his heart shrink when Alec clenches his jaw, the subtle shake of his head. _Denial._ Alec would reply to him, but he’s shutting the door, the click of the lock breaking the silence inside the car as Magnus walks away.

Alec keeps his eyes on him, pain dwelling where the seraph blade sliced him open as Magnus doesn’t turn back. His head thumps against the head of the seat, and the black veins that Magnus pushed back to the depths of his soul roll over his skin again.

He curses himself, trying to control his breathing as he holds his hands, squeezing them together, trying to feel _something._

 _“Fuck.”_ Alec grits words between his teeth. “Why are you even giving me time? Why are you-- why are you _doing this?”_

Hitting the wheel, the veins subside, anger sufficiently released on the poor steering wheel. Alec breathes, clenching and unclenching the hand that usually holds the Soul Sword. He knows it’s waiting for him when he gets back, to taunt him.

Alec can’t help but want to run up after Magnus, to demand answers, to ask why he looked at him that way tonight and yet keeps pretending it’s nothing. He doesn’t know what good emotions are, and he wants to learn, wants to be something more than a beast told to sit and fetch.

He places both hands on the wheel, unaware of Magnus watching him from the balcony, having sat there in the car for more than five minutes just trying to _breathe._

Now that he’s alone, it’s worse, and not even the roar and adrenaline of the hypercar he’s in can drown out the questions he’s never had before, never wanted.

Magnus Bane is making him human, and he fears it more than his own curse.

 

\- - - - -

_‘And if it breaks, do you know how to mend it together?_

_And if you repair it, will it be the same as before?’_

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> remember to wear your seat belts, everyone
> 
> my curiouscat is open [here](https://curiouscat.me/royalbane) if you want to ask any questions about this fic!


	5. Enigma

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> oops, it's been a month, sorry!
> 
> I've been struggling with writers block, and this chapter has been 'ready' multiple times but didn't feel right to me, so now it's at a state where I'm happy to release it.
> 
> relationship tags will now include maia and isabelle, since this is the beginning of their arc (even though it might not seem like it) but you'll see more of them sooner rather than later as the old version did. magnus and alec are still the focus, but they all have their part to play in each other's stories.
> 
> potential trigger warnings for self hatred
> 
> remember the social tag for this fic is #ODSfic so i can find all your tweets and reactions if you feel like doing so!
> 
> sorry for the wait, i hope it was worth it!

_"You can hope for a lot of things, but for fate to go your way isn't one of them,_   


_And unfortunately, when it tricks you to think you have control?_

_That's the worst feeling of all."_

 

\- - - - -

 

Two days. That's how long it's been since Alec was his fake date to a masquerade ball that was more political than party. Magnus is apparently plagued with messages and constant meetings with the Clave over this newfound upcoming  _ greater alliance. _

It's all a ploy. It doesn't take a genius to see that, how everything leads back to the sword, the demon.

Alec. Everything leads back to him, even the questions Magnus asks himself as if he's talking to his own demons. He's hoping they'll quiet down, that some voice will appear and tell his curiosity to find something else to wonder about.

Well, perhaps there is  _ one  _ voice that can try and talk some sense into him, but she seems just as curious as Magnus.

"He's rather sweet, isn't he?" Maia is hugging her blanket closer, accepting the hot mug of cocoa Magnus offers her.

It's rather late at night, Maia has just finished her shift and Magnus has too much on his mind to sleep. Alec hasn't texted him, hasn't replied to any of Magnus' either.

"I don't know what you see in him, and he hasn't been  _ sweet  _ to me," replies Magnus, sitting down beside her. "That's his demonic charm getting to you, I suppose."

"Are you calling me weak, Magnus? That I'd fall for a man's charm? Ridiculous. I didn't think you thought so low of me." She takes a sip of her hot beverage, smirking as Magnus clicks his tongue.

"Of course not, Maia. I know you far too well to say something like that." Despite the teasing, he’s smiling because he remembers how far Maia has come since the day Luke found her.

"But why are you seeking guidance about him? Usually, you're the one we seek guidance  _ from."  _ Shifting so she faces him, she hugs the mug close to her chest, already seeing the conflict on Magnus' face.

Magnus sighs, shaking his head.

"Nonsense. I help people, it costs nothing to be a good person."

"I disagree." Her smile takes a dip when Magnus looks at her, not speaking the words, but Maia can see them in his eyes. "You can describe yourself as a good person, but it doesn't mean you  _ are  _ one. If people can gain something out of helping others, like fame, fortune, it all looks good on the outside but it's not doing it out of the good of your heart."

"That's… rather true, I suppose." He can't argue with her, knows he can't.

Not because he won't win, or she won't take his opinion, it's because she's right. Sometimes even Magnus doesn't want to believe in the truth of something, no matter how good it seems.

Nothing ever good happens without a downfall, there needs to be balance.  _ If you don't believe in the good, the bad won't follow to counter it.  _

Magnus heard that saying once from a past lover, and as the years went by, he slowly began to believe the truth of it. And the bad that followed such truth?

He had to leave that lover to time itself. It was long, long,  _ long  _ ago. But the memory is still there if he so wishes to remember.

And then he thinks of something, that Alec doesn't have that luxury. If he did love as the man he was before, his lover won't even remember him, or they do, and that's part of their curse for loving him.

Waiting for him to come home, a home he can't remember having, something Alec probably doesn't even believe that he deserves to see again.

"Magnus?" Maia's nudging him, blurring the image of Alec's torn face in that room, the guilt in his eyes no darkness could hide.

"Sorry, I lost track of thought." He takes a decent sip, eyes forward.

"Wow, you're really caught up."

"Not in  _ that  _ way," he counters, quickly, almost too quickly. "He's nothing more than a puzzle I can't solve."

Maia frowns a little, bringing the mug down from her lips, speaking softly, "But you want to."

"Yes," he admits, a deep exhale escaping before he can catch it. Saying that seems to have made it easier, a certain weight lifting from his chest. "I want to know why a man so conflicted on who he wants to be was cursed to be something very specific."

"What do you mean?"

"He's not what I expected him to be." Magnus puts down his cup onto his lap, digging in deep to try and find words he's slowly been shovelling away.

Having these two days to think, it's been eye opening. He’s caught himself between giving him a chance and just avoiding a headache all together. But then again, Magnus has only been enforcing his rules, choosing not to speak when there’s space to do so. 

With that small conversation they had during the party, Magnus wonders how much there is to Alec, how much he’s been wanting to say and not having anyone to speak to about it. Magnus is well aware of the demons that can hide in endless time, deep in the depths of someone’s mind to trick and blend anxiety, worry and emotions.

Even though Alec paints himself to be this tough, playful demon, there’s layers underneath that are beginning to surface, and they don’t look so pretty to Magnus. Granted, he hasn’t seen them yet, but it’s always the silence, the quick looks that speak far more than words themselves can.

_ It’s only a matter of time--  _ was Alec referencing himself or Magnus? He said it during the initial summoning, a time where his eyes held a fire that Magnus could only see as demonic. But now, when he looks at Alec, it’s beyond the red of his eyes, the sharp suit, the cautious and almost hidden frown he’s always wearing if he’s not smiling.

Half the time, he doesn’t show any emotion, as if there’s nothing for him to feel.

Magnus squeezes his hand around the mug he holds, his throat a little tight. This is bothering him more than it should, and the more Alec speaks nothing but silence, there’s more time for Magnus to work out a plan to give that chance, to let Alec  _ stay. _

Whatever that word means, to  _ stay,  _ Magnus will have to figure it out along with Alec, because he’s always said the Downworld is his family, and that greater demon strangely fits into that. He has demon blood like Magnus does, is familiar with Edom as Magnus is, and there’s a certain humanity to him that’s  _ begging  _ for the chance to break free-- to  _ breathe,  _ almost.

"Maybe he needs help. Someone to talk to other than the voices in his head like we all have." Maia speaks after that small silence, letting the minutes tick by as Magnus fought with himself. She can see it in the way he looks down, focuses on the way the liquid moves from the gentle shakes of his hand.

He’s nervous, in some way. Magnus bites his tongue.

"Yes, perhaps." 

"If anyone knows when someone needs help, when they're too afraid themselves or too stubborn to ask, it's you." Maia prods his shoulder gently, causing him to drop the tension in his shoulders, reminding Magnus of the very real world around him, that he’s not stuck in a sudden nightmare. "I've known you long enough, and Luke even more. We know you're a man who owns a good heart, a genuine one, and if Alec needs help, you'll see that."

"And what if he's a man who doesn't want me to help him?"

Maia smiles, calm as she speaks, "You'll find a way. You always do."

With that statement, Magnus finally looks at Maia, smile clear on his face as he places his mug down. Maia really is a treasure to hold, and as he brings her in for a hug, placing her own mug down, the pair stay there in mutual silence. Maia rubs a gentle hand down his back. 

To anyone else, Magnus may look weak, but he’s anything but. He’s accepting comfort when he needs it, hugging one of his closest friends with thanks for their words.

“You are a real gem, Maia,” he says, moving back from the hug, Maia smiling from ear to ear. 

“And don’t you forget it!” Another nudge to his shoulder, her own worries easing as Magnus finally sits up, more strong in how he holds himself.

“Oh, I won’t,” Magnus replies, reaching for his phone on the table. “And in fact, there’s something I was meaning to do.” 

Handing over his phone, Maia eyes him curiously, then switches her focus to the screen as she takes the phone. There’s a number and a name, two things that have Maia glancing twice at Magnus.

“Is this that Shadowhunter you were talking about?”

“Mmm,” Magnus nods, gesturing to the phone again. “I asked during the ball if she’s comfortable with me giving you her phone number.”

“You’re giving me a  _ date?”  _

“No!” He manages to keep a straight face for two seconds. “Alright, perhaps I am. But, there’s another reason, and it’s about Alec.”

Maia switches her focus away from the phone again, tilting her head. “Second thoughts?” She says, not giving her own thoughts away in the tone of her voice or expression.

Magnus debates with himself, decides if he should confirm it out loud, but there’s no avoiding it now. It’s a very loud thought in his head, and Magnus has never been one to shy away from the impossible.

“I’m thinking about it,” replies Magnus, reaching for his phone again, clicking back to have the contact list. And right there, sits the name he’s thinking about. “It’s unlikely, but I’m not one to turn down a lost soul.”

 

_ \- - - - - _

 

Alec finds himself rather fond of the rain. It's calming, almost hypnotic in a way that he loses track of time. He follows the small trails the heavier drops make, the smaller ones joining others and eventually falling too.

It brings misery to the mundanes, though, and Alec can see it in the way people rush inside, calling for lifts so they don't have to walk home because they forgot their umbrella.

_ Maybe I caused the rain,  _ he thinks, expression not shifting as if this is a natural thought for him.

Perhaps Alec  _ is _ the reason for such horrid weather over the last few days. His mood has been poor, reflective in a way that hurts his mental state rather than improve it.

Currently, he's sat by the window, coffee table pulled closer so that he can place all of the books he's gathered on top. Leaning his side against it, Alec sits on the floor, legs kicked out to the side as he rests his head on the window. 

Any other person would feel the cold, but Alec causes condensation, causing the raindrops that hit the window near his head to evaporate immediately.

It's one of the reasons why Alec can't cry, can't mourn what he is. Tears don't fall, he can't make them, but he can feel the pain in his face when his body tries too.

Even if the stretch and pull of his lungs makes him sob, he won't cry. The flames he was forged with won't allow it, and he'll be cursed to live with whatever pain he's given, never to let it go or release some of the edge.

A lightning strike jolts him from his daze, the rain now pouring down faster than Alec can count the raindrops on the windows.

He sighs, looking back to his collection of books, open on random pages. There's a picture of a whale on one of them, descriptions of historic events on another, and words and their meanings on pretty much everything else.

The local library isn't missing any books, and even though his demonic blood had a small giggle at the thought of stealing, a single name stopped him from doing so. Or, he considered different, and decided the easier option of just copying them with his magic so he can keep them.

Alec has already planned to take some back with him when the deal is finished. Maybe then he won't aimlessly walk for days on end, but to find a place to call home, or whatever that means to Alec. He's not quite sure yet.

He's studying, learning. The experience at the masquerade ball has shaken him, and Alec found himself annoyed,  _ infuriated  _ at the fact in some conversations he struggled to understand anything except if they were telling the truth or not.

There was no happiness or sadness for their stories, and even if there was, Alec didn't understand half of what they were saying anyway.

So, here he is, avoiding Magnus but reading his messages. Unfortunately he doesn't know about the features of today's technology, and believes Magnus is completely oblivious to if Alec has seen those messages or not.

He knows. Alec is catching on too.

 

_ 2 DAYS AGO _

_ BANE: [Party was a success. They suspected nothing and blamed it on Valentine. Let me know when you want to talk.] _

 

_ 1 DAY AGO _

_ BANE: [Checking in. Clave had a meeting with me today. Valentine has been gathering demon blood apparently, I think he's trying to summon you in some way. We'll talk about it more when you're ready.] _

 

_ TODAY _

_ 9:03am, BANE: [Any updates on where you are?] _

_ 11:34am, BANE: [I'd like you to come over so we can discuss our next plan of action. Do you still have that phone?] _

_ 01:18pm, BANE: [Alec. Please respond as soon as you can. Your lack of cooperation goes against our deal.] _

_ 4:43pm, BANE: [If there's something wrong, you can talk to me. If something happened at the ball that you're not telling me, I'd like to know, especially if this silence is a result of that.] _

 

Reading that last one did something to him, peaked interests he shouldn't have and questions he can't dare to have answered. Magnus is acting different, or he's just more open now. Either way, Alec can't tell which is which, and the poison he has in his veins tells him it's all a trick for him to play by Magnus' rules.

Of course, Alec doesn't listen, but the thought gnaws at him more than it should if he's supposedly ignoring it.

But just as he's thinking to himself about it, his phone rings again with another text from Magnus.

 

_ 9:23PM, BANE: [Alec. I know I said I'd give you time, but I can't wait any longer. Every day that goes by is another day that Valentine haunts the Downworld of his one wish. Please respect that.] _

 

_ The mission. The deal. _

Alec puts the phone down, sighs into his hand as he pushes it across his lips, guilt tripping him when he's not even standing.

Maybe he should text him back, but it's eating away at him, the images he sees with Magnus in his head, the countless answers he needs to be able to look him in the eye again. There's too much on his mind to focus, and it's the first time Alec can even remember being this crowded inside his own thoughts.

But Magnus can't give that to him, not now, not when there are lives at risk. Usually he'd give a person like Alec time to find what they need, whatever that may be, but he can't do that this time.

This is different. In more ways than one.

Of course, Magnus sees the  _ read  _ indicator tick, and the next text comes through quicker than Alec can shift focus;

 

_ BANE: [Fine. As you wish.] _

 

Alec doesn't think much of that text, but it's slowly starting to prickle, a timer counting down until he's met with what he fears once more.

Turning back to his books, Alec throws his phone in some random direction, not cringing at the sound of it breaking, not understanding the worth of objects in a world he's forgotten.

The most ironic thing about this is that Alec can just absorb the book with his magic and learn it that way, but there's something about feeling the pages, the smell of the books and the indistinct, small joy of reading the next line and wondering what he'll find out next.

Beside him, his mask from the ball sits and waits. It hasn't shifted back to its original form ever since he took it off, which helps him match it up to the animal he's looking for. There's a reason it changed to what it did, and Alec wants to know for the better of himself. 

Or, he's worried it'll say something bad, repeat what he's already aware of. But some sort of hope inside him thinks differently, wants to be told different even though he'll probably deny it.

Alec turns page after page, rather delicate with the action as if it's not his right to be so brutal with knowledge. He barely has any, so these books are more important to him than the regular mundane. He could find it on the internet, considering Maia let him use it to answer most of his questions before, but there's something about books that's relaxing.

A set amount of information, a limit.

A limit so he doesn't go too far, doesn't hope for something more that'll only make him mourn for what he can't have.

For now, he's more than content with this, a number of pages and a set collection of books he picked from the library himself.

And just as he's thinking about what book might help him next, a picture of a wolf greets him, teeth snarling with its lips curled back.

Dread creeps down his spine, swallowing what feels like a rock in his throat, casting his eyes to the mask that eerily matches the picture he sees in the book.

Alec can't take his eyes away, how the brown eyes seem to pierce him,  _ wanting  _ to set fear in his bones that he can't shake.

_ Is this what Magnus feels when he sees me? _

That thought feels like a hand around his throat, and he's left reaching for the side of his neck to rub the feeling away. He sighs, closing his eyes and hoping whatever is making his chest tremble fades away quickly.

"Fuck." He curses between his teeth, having not been prepared for how this is making him feel.

Opening his eyes again, Alec faces the picture head on, lasting only a few seconds until he looks further down the page, information written out about various species, traits of the animal and various stories.

One part, however, does catch him for longer than the rest.

_ "A lone wolf is considered an exile, pushed from their previous pack to live in solitude. Many find new packs, but ultimately lone wolves do not survive for long." _

Looking away from the book, Alec tries to blur his mind with the rain outside, how it's growing louder, heavier as it falls to earth. 

Perhaps it's the angels reminding him, knowing what he's reading and not allowing space for him to breathe, wanting him to believe the words written on that piece of paper.

But despite this, he looks back, reading on the second side.

_ "Despite how vicious they may be portrayed, wolves are a symbol of loyalty, guardians from how they'll protect their pack no matter what the danger may be. They are quick to trust and become attached, and therefore in many ways in which they appear, they teach us to trust both heart and mind." _

It all seems a bit much, especially when the complete opposite of those words sits on the other page. Either way, this may be the hope Alec needs, that  _ maybe _ somewhere deep inside, there’s a person that wants to be loyal, to protect.

He already is, but it’s hard for him to see that when so much negativity outweighs the good. At least he’s got answers now, except one, which he’s going to find even if it takes him days. The internet could’ve told him straight away, but he’s past asking a screen and instead, enjoying touching physical things that he can hold. Being in hell can really mess with things in that regard, he probably wouldn’t be able to take these down there without some sort of magic protecting them, otherwise they’d burn up in seconds. Not being able to interact with people through touch is haunting enough, so having this, where he can physically interact with some parts of the world is enough for him.

Pushing the book with the animals aside, leaving it open on the page depicting  the wolf, Alec brings a dictionary closer to him. He flicks through the pages carefully, finding new words he didn’t know before until he reaches a promising set of words that all sound like the start of the one he’s looking for.

His fingertips search down the page, mumbling the word in his head until his body locks when he finds it. There it is, a single word that's been digging at him for far too long.

_ Enigma; a person or thing that is mysterious or difficult to understand. _

A mystery, that's what Magnus called him. It must've meant something important considering he had the will to speak it. Perhaps he doesn't have the intention of Alec ever finding out what it means.

A small rumble sounds, shifting on his lap. A small, black as night hellhound, one ear up and one ear down as Alec moves his fingers through their fur. Their small nose twitches from irritation, annoyed that Alec is stressing about something.

"I know, girl, I know. I'm thinking too much, aren't I," he says, softly, looking down to the small pup curled up, watching them peek one eye open to look up at Alec. "I can't help it."

If she could speak, she'd probably ask why, but since she's only able to sense what Alec's feeling, there's not much in terms of communicating.

Either way, she grumbles again when Alec's hand stops, moving from his lap to hop onto the table surface. Alec clicks his tongue, but can't help but smile as she sniffs at the pages of each book.

"I called you here to keep me company, not to annoy me." All Alec gets in return is a  _ look.  _ "Alright, sure. I'll stop complaining."

When she finds a spot to sit, she does so, looking around at all the books, not quite sure why Alec is so intent on finding something. She tilts her head, obvious confusion in her expression as Alec sighs.

"Well, we're only topside for a few more days, I'm guessing. Magnus will probably have my head if he finds out I summoned you here." Her mindless pawing at books makes him smile. "I couldn't leave you down there, though."

At that, she turns to Alec, a small little mumble sounding from her maw, small tail wagging from side to side. Summoning her here is the least he can do for her, because without her, he'd _really_ be alone down there.

"Maybe if I get chance, if Magnus gives me a few days before I go back, I can take you to a park or something. That's what I've seen mundanes do with their dogs, and you're not a dog, but close enough."

She yips at that. Alec usually calls her buddy, but there's never been a name. Frankly, Alec didn't think she'd stick around, but they saved each other more than they probably know.

“I still need to give you a name, don’t I?” He scratches behind her floppy ear, smiling as she leans into his affection, tail moving side to side slowly. “I just don’t know what to call you, it feels like everything I come up with doesn’t match you.”

Frankly, he’s scared to give her a name, just in case one day he’ll call for her and she won’t appear. He believes if there’s no name, there’s no attachment to hold on to. It's partly the reason why Alec only calls Magnus by his last name, as getting friendly seems far from worth it when he's going back once he's done his part of the deal.

He's rather bummed about that, to be honest. Alec was hoping he'd be more open, and despite him not being completely closed off, it's expected.

Alec is a stranger, nothing more and nothing less. He's everything Magnus hates,  _ forged  _ in a place he  _ despises.  _

It really couldn't go any more sideways.

Except now, for instance.

There's footsteps, not too heavy, not too soft. Alec's hellhound companion also perks up, looking towards the door, a slight snarl breaking through her teeth.

_ "Hey,"  _ he whispers, raising a hand towards her,  _ "it's alright." _

From how strong the presence is, how it tugs Alec's chest towards the door, he's aware of who it is. But he doesn't want to see him now, not when he's not exactly wearing the game he's been playing.

_ "Shit."  _ Jumping to his feet, Alec makes quick work of the mess, including himself.

Red magic bleeds from his hands, reaching out and swallowing the room, making it tidy, presentable in order for the place to be sold to a potential buyer.

His comfortable clothes shift and stitch themselves into a sharp, black suit. He adjusts his tie as the red magic folds and twists back into the palms of his hands, taking a deep breath because of the potential questions he's just avoided.

It's not like he's going to avoid them all, but a few have been knocked off the potential list. The hellhound stays where she is, not having orders and not sensing Alec asking for her to leave. Magnus will find out about her eventually, so why not now when their relationship is already thin?

Okay, that  _ does  _ sound bad. But the knuckles knocking his front door tell him that his preparation time is well and truly over.

"Alec?" Magnus' voice is muffled, but Alec's heightened senses hear him clear as day.

There's not much after that, nothing but silence. Perhaps Magnus is expecting him to speak, but the reality is, Alec doesn't know if he's ready to talk about what happened. He's pretty certain that if Magnus asked him questions, his answers would be twisted lies instead of honest truth. 

Why would he lie? Because there's not much for him to be truthful about. He only has what games he can play and the endless amount of power that's waiting to be woven at his fingertips.

Alec takes one heavy step forward, almost as if that one move took more will and energy than anything, but his next steps follow smoothly.

As he reaches the door, he hears the gentle shuffle of clothing outside, the sigh that breaks through lips he's caught himself staring at one too many times.

Taking the handle, he finds an odd sensation drill through him again, spreading through his body and leaving tingles. His heart is beating louder, too.

Adrenaline, maybe. He hasn't felt it since he last saw Magnus.

Pulling the door open, the bright lights of the hallway cut into Alec’s apartment. Magnus stands there, long, burgundy coat resting on his shoulders and his hair falling to one side.

“Alec.” He says, looking to him as Alec simply stands there.

It hits Alec harder than it should, a blurred emotion with no name, but it's  _ heavy  _ and  _ pungent,  _ knocking on his brain as if it's a crime that he  _ doesn't  _ understand what he's feeling.

His mouth feels dry, and be's momentarily floored by how the sight of Magnus sets ease in his bones, a comforting push to his lungs that allows him to release the breath he’s been holding ever since he said goodbye to him that night.

Alec really missed him, swears under his breath when he feels that dread of loss slowly dwindle. Whatever he's feeling, it's in close family to that.

"Didn't expect to see you so soon," Alec greets him, a sly smile to get him by, hopefully hiding the momentary fault in his circuits.

"I've been waiting for you to call me, or text." Magnus replies, offended if the subtle frown he holds on his face is anything to go by. "I know you've seen my messages." He walks into the apartment, Alec following him as he moves by.

"Apologies, I've been busy." Alec revels in the click that follows as he shuts the door, a moment of noise in heavy silence.

"Doing what, sitting in the dark?" Speaking over his shoulder to him, Alec soon realises how dark the apartment actually is.

There are no lights except from the moon itself outside, thousands and thousands of miles away, out of reach. Even the stretch of the city skyline can’t illuminate as much as the natural satellite.

_ “Why _ is it so dark in here?” asks Magnus, looking around.

“Sets the mood, doesn’t it?” 

Alec steps out of the shadows, one hand in his pocket, another holding a short glass of something alcoholic. Magnus can clearly see he’s wearing a suit, abandoning the tie and having a few buttons open from his collar down.

“If you’re looking for rather dull, then yes, I’d say you’re on the mark.” Magnus checks him out once, deems it enough. 

“Well, I’m not exactly  _ holy  _ or  _ cherished  _ anymore, so why not reflect that? I don’t feel the difference between either, so why not go with the choice I’m more accustomed to?” 

“And the hellhound?” He turns to see Magnus locked onto the small pup sitting on the table near the window, ears dropped back at the stranger. 

“Friendly,” he speaks, quickly, wanting to have Magnus to agree to let her stay here, even if for a little while. “Won’t hurt a fly.”

Magnus doesn’t seem to have anything to say in reply. Better than nothing, Alec thinks.

He’d argue against summoning Edom creatures here, but if Alec has been alone, Magnus finds a small comfort in knowing he wasn’t  _ really  _ alone in that sense. Hellhounds can’t speak back, but they’re incredibly intelligent, and if Alec made peace with one during his time in Edom, then it’s a bond nowhere near breaking.

“Do they have a name?” asks Magnus, staying near the door, not feeling entirely welcome and regretting turning up without announcing. Alec is fine with it according to how he’s reacted so far, but Magnus has a shred of doubt he’s been doing anything other than causing trouble.

And the apartment is suspiciously clean, tidy.

“No, she doesn’t. I can’t pick one, and she can’t seem to decide either.” Alec sneaks a smile while Magnus is too busy taking it all in. The smiles drops when Magnus turns back to him, but not focusing on him entirely.

"Are you hiding something?" Question after question. 

Alec begins to believe Magnus has more questions than he himself does. The ping pong behaviour of them is rather unsettling.

"Why would I hide anything from you, Bane? That'd warrant my demise rather than success." Alec smiles bright, doing his best to charm the snake that slithers on his tongue.

Even if he can't lie, the twisted truth can always find a way to the surface.

"Drop the glamour," Magnus returns his gaze to Alec, watching his expression fall bitter. "You can lie to others, but you can't lie to me."

Alec waits, wants him to change his mind. But alas, Magnus is a stubborn man.

"Very well." As Alec wishes it to, the glamour falls, a red sheen moving over the apartment and Alec himself. It’s rather beautiful for something meant to be so evil.

As Alec’s clothes change, Magnus finds himself staring, not because of the attraction he knows dwells deep down, but because of  _ what  _ he’s wearing.

Joggers, a grey top that just touches his elbows. He’s casual,  _ relaxed _ in a way a University student looks a night before a final exam. There’s no black suit, held posture, sweet smirk. 

He’s more human than Magnus has ever seen him, and Alec can’t look him in the eye. 

Walking to his kitchen, Alec fills up the kettle in order to make a drink. The mundane way, not using his magic, and that sudden realisation makes Magnus take a step towards him. It’s horrible, this feeling of wanting to know more but having fear of the truth.

“Want a drink?” he asks.

“No, I’m alright, thank you.”

“Alright,” Alec says, sniffing, “I don’t think I make them well, anyway. They don’t taste of anything.”

That very sentence switches something in the air, the same thought running through their heads.

“How did you even find where I live?” Either way, Alec decides to change the subject.

“I tracked the warlock rune you have on your neck,” he says, clearing his throat, “useful for when the other person on the end of your deal doesn’t want to be found.”

Alec snorts, shaking his head. “Can you blame me?”

_ No,  _ Magnus thinks, leaving the conversation to simmer inside his mind.

As the noise of boiling water starts to ease the silence of their conversation, Magnus makes more progress inside the apartment, walking over to the pile and spread of books near the walls of windows, the hellhound that’s now snoring on a closed book of animals. 

Magnus doesn’t know what to make of it, that he’s studying or just avoiding and wasting time. He can’t help but notice that many of them, and soon sees that  _ all  _ of them are simply mundane books, none of the shadows present that might be beneficial for him.

“Do you want more books? Preferably ones that might help you with the hidden world?” Picking up one of the books already open near him, Magnus stares at the wolf drawing, the symbolism written beneath.

He’s been searching up the meaning of his mask, what his reflection means, and Magnus wonders if Alec searched for Magnus’ mask, too. There’s no doubt he has, especially when he’s been so curious about his own. If he’s going to worm his way out of this deal, Alec is going to learn everything about Magnus that he can, so that the way out is much easier to twist into his palm than without that knowledge.

Little does he know, Alec hasn’t. Not yet, at least.

Either way, he seems stuck in a particular book, and Magnus can see the cover from where he stands on the other side of the room. Wonders of the World, a key guide for mundanes looking for various places to travel and see with their very own eyes, places that pictures in books and on the internet can’t come close to replicating what it feels like to be there.

“No,” Alec responds, distant, “I’d rather just learn the basics, even though I’ll miss it when I go back. I’ll have something to remember then, at least.”

“But Edom isn’t here, Alec.” Blunt, but true. “It’s not like remembering here will make that place less insufferable.”

He looks over, catching the moment Alec sighs, gazing at him with clear irritation on his face.

“Well done, Captain Obvious. I’m aware there’s not much to see down there except ash and suffering, believe me, I have a fucking front row seat.” Grunting, Alec runs his hands through his hair, not caring that he’s not presentable at all. “I have an eternity to learn the horrors down there, but I have limited time here, and I’d like to enjoy it while it lasts.”

“You truly believe I’m going to send you back? Just like that?” 

Something grips the air, frightened and tense. Magnus doesn’t know if it’s Alec’s magic reacting to his words, or he’s feeling that himself and the stomach churning regret he has of mentioning it.

Alec pauses, focus to the floor with his back to him as he tries to decode what Magnus said. His smile is hurtful when it appears. “Having second thoughts?”

“I’m simply asking a question.” 

Shaking his head, Alec turns away from him, heading to the open kitchen area, feeling Magnus’ eyes on him like a ghost haunting him.

Magnus decides not to push the question, but without him speaking, the apartment falls into silence, only the dull sound of horns in the distance and the buzz of the city at night. He walks to the windows, looking down into the city and wondering if Alec somehow sees this view different to him.

Does he see potential? Destruction? A blur of red that drives him to the point of insanity?

He turns to Alec then, and suddenly it’s hard to believe when he’s just making tea. Perhaps he dislikes coffee, and Magnus shakes that thought from his head when it slips in. Alec is no mundane, but his choice and rapidly evolving view on the world is something Magnus hasn’t seen in a demon before.

Granted, he’s a fallen angel, so he has that past somewhere deep inside his written code, but Alec must not remember it.

“What are you here for?” Alec finally speaks up, still turned away from him as he stirs his drink. “I thought you were going to call to me, not track my rune and turn up unannounced.”

“I guessed my text would tell you that.” Magnus focuses back onto the city, feeling Alec’s presence closer when he walks back to him. This is awfully…  _ relaxed _ for the tension clearly in the air between them. 

“Forgive me for being nose deep in studying,” says Alec, taking a sip of his warm drink, sighing as the heat soothes his throat. “But I’ll say it again, what are you here for?”

Silence. Magnus can’t speak, not when such an innocent thought breaks through his usual focus. The fact that Alec, a greater demon able to create things with magic like Magnus can, boils a kettle and stirs his own tea. 

Is he purposely being mundane? Is that something from his past creeping through?

“Oi, Bane,” calls Alec, frowning at him, watching his very subtle flinch, the extra blinks. “Do you love the view that much?”

“I do,” he answers, a little breathless. “It’s like a sky full of stars, isn’t it? All the cars, the buildings, the endless sea of blinking lights.” It’s almost as if he’s trying to avoid the conversation he wants to talk about.

Alec looks from Magnus to the city, focusing on the highway that stretches far into the distance, cars whipping up and down the stretch of tarmac. 

“Do you like the stars, then?”

Magnus doesn’t answer, only closes his eyes, taking a deep breath and moving away from the window. Each second that ticks by after that is another second Alec grows more aggravated.

“Hey, stop ignoring my questions, Bane. If you’re going to barge into my apartment demanding social activity, the least you can do is actually reply to me.” He gestures to his own chest, snarling his words. “I’m not some support service for when you’re lonely and need someone to talk to.”

“I’m not asking for you to be that.” Turning as he speaks, Magnus watches how Alec loses the frown, almost a little shocked at how sharp Magnus’ tone is. 

“Well, what are you asking?” Alec adds, taking a sip of his tea when Magnus doesn’t answer back.

All Magnus does is look down, pressing his lips tightly together.

“Is this about the ball? What I did?” He asks again.

“No,” Magnus replies, quick, “Not at all.” Another pause. “I want you to talk to me.”

Alec stalls, gears turning inside his brain and finding no rhythm. Isn’t that what he’s doing? Or is this truly about what happened between them at the ball?

"If you're expecting me to ask for forgiveness, I am past that. I am a demon with more sins to my name than your own, and to think you'll give me such a thing as to forgive me, I'd be lying to myself." Alec takes a deep breath, almost laughing but not quite. "And you know I can't do that."

There's a bitter pause.

"I am not them," replies Magnus, cold. "I never will be."

"But you have angel blood, do you not?" Alec looks over his shoulder as he turns away, gaze meeting with Magnus'. "Your father is fallen too, and even if I didn't know who your father was, you have this… aura I'm not familiar with. It's as if I'm not meant to see it, that your power is only for the divine."

He's referencing that night at Pandemonium, the glow he saw framing Magnus through the endless sea of red and blue. Good and evil, side by side in explicit harmony.

And then there was Magnus, a star, a force so powerful the world unknowingly revolves around him.

"He fell for reasons deserving of such punishment." He's aware of Alec trying to change the subject, to make this about Magnus and not him. "But I am my own man, not  _ his.  _ I'm not asking you to apologise, I'm asking you to talk to me, to speak the truth you know you'll say anyway, but you choose not to."

"Ah," Alec takes a gulp of his tea, winces. "There you have it. Your heavenly judgment."

"Heavenly is a sour word when we will never be invited to the silver gates." A light joke, one Alec smiles at, albeit small, but there.

Alec is inclined to disagree. He feels that way.

"I believe you will be." 

Magnus flinches at that. "Pardon?"

Turning around, Alec leans leans against the counter, his messy, unkempt hair swept back by his hand as he speaks.

"A man willing to hear out a demon who has broken a rule in the first few weeks, a curse so brutal with no cure yet he stands so close." The look Alec gives him makes it clear he's on about what happened at the ball, that closet and how for a moment they truly felt alone.

"But your curse does have a cure," replies Magnus, fiddling with the end of his coat sleeve. "My magic calmed the flames."

That makes Alec pause.  _ What if? _

Another one. Another cursed hope he willingly sprouts when he shouldn't. Magnus isn't his redemption, he said it himself.

"I wonder if it’ll protect him for what follows."  Alec's voice is so quiet that Magnus barely hears him, but considering the apartment only shares the faint sound of the busy city outside, he can't help but to amplify every detail about Alec.

He's clenching the side, biting his lip, brushing his hands through his hair in an attempt to fix it with no avail. At least he's not terrible to look at, and if anything, he looks  _ normal. _

A man. Simply a man waking up to the sounds of his own nightmare.

"What follows?" asks Magnus, curious to what he means.

Alec looks at him, two seconds pass by, and then he turns away.

"I don't know. Perhaps nightmares, an awful ringing in his ears, a sharp pain that sticks like the past is haunting him, but there’s no door for him to open in order to remember it." Brushing his hand over his mouth, Alec only finishes speaking when he takes a deep breath. "Only the truth will fall from his lips, cursed with the image of a demon waiting for him to tell a lie."

Magnus doesn't say anything. How can he?

But he does find the heart to say something, pushing the words from his thoughts to reality.

"Are you describing the man," Magnus inhales, exhales when Alec looks at him again, "Or yourself?"

He catches a glimpse of the realization on Alec's face, unwarranted emotions he doesn't dare to name.

And then he smiles, offbeat, almost twisted.

"Wouldn't you like to know, Bane?"

“Actually,” Magnus challenges, keeping his focus entirely on Alec now, “I would like to know.”

That doesn’t seem to sit well with Alec, as his shoulders tense, squeezing together. It may be the only past he remembers, but it’s not something he’s willing to speak about to someone who won’t give a shred of sympathy for him.

Who would, after all? Magnus could only be interested for the sake of a good end to this deal.

“Well, you’ll have to forgive me on this one. It’s not something I want to tell.” There’s that voice he uses, the one void of any sadness, the one he uses when he’s wearing those suits.

Alec is hiding in plain sight.

"What do you know?" Magnus twists the questions.

“I said I’m not telling you.”

“No,” Magnus says, “what do you know about  _ me?” _

The demon didn’t expect that, not at all.

“About you?” Alec speaks after a few beats of uncertainty, "That you're a man who will set himself on fire to keep others warm."

Quite morbid, but the meaning is there, and Magnus worries his hands together at how much that very sentence confirms his statement. Perhaps he can say it, that one word or curiosity that’s been eating away during his client meetings and sleep.

“And do you know what that tells me about you, Alec?” He only hums in reply, and Magnus bites his bottom lip at how much this might hurt.

“Enlighten me, Bane.” Alec still has his back turned.

“That you’re a man with something to lose.”

Everything stops, even Alec’s hand as it brushes through his hair once more. His arm falls to his side, head a little back as if it’s heavy, a throbbing thundering through him as if something is warning him.

Magnus doesn’t say anything else, leaving Alec to think over it himself, and how he’s standing, silent and tense, he can’t have taken it well. He must think Magnus is playing jokes, a fickle back and forth for an end goal Alec won’t even see.

“Is that meant to be a joke?” Alec replies, lifeless, monotone.

“No, it’s what I think and feel.”

“What you  _ feel?”  _ He could  _ laugh  _ at that if he really tried, but Alec won’t mock him when there’s this burning in his lungs he can’t shake. 

Alec doesn’t know that he feels like crying. 

“You may not believe it, but I see a lot more than you do, Alec. It may be my curse to believe in people, but there’s something about you that makes me think twice.” Magnus isn’t quite sure how to word it, but he hopes he helps Alec understand something at  _ least  _ instead of making it worse.

“Then don’t,” Alec snaps back, as if it’s something easy to do.

“I can’t just do that, to not believe in you if you’re struggling to understand yourself, to know what you want when you were so sure to begin with.” Taking a step closer, Magnus finds it habit to try and reach for him, to lay a comforting hand, and even though there’s fabric between them, he’s scared the contact with still trigger that fear in Alec.

Especially when he’s so shaken, so on edge that Magnus fears even speaking will make him snap.

“If you’re going to believe in me,” Alec has to change how he sees this, for both of their sakes, “Believe that I’ll catch Valentine, that I’ll curse him to a hell he’ll never crawl out of.”

Magnus becomes annoyingly aware that he’s trying to change the subject, and he sighs, following his wishes. They have time to talk about this, Magnus can give them that time once this is over.

“Are you going to do it?”

“Meet Valentine?”

Magnus hums. Waits for his reply even if he already knows the answer.

“Yes,” Alec turns away, “I suppose I will.”

“Valentine wants to summon you. He knows you exist now, so setting up bait is one of the options we have.”

“Taking one for the team,” starts Alec, somewhat reflective on that, “for the greater good. I’ll call him as soon as you leave.”

“No, I’ll call him,” argues Magnus, and Alec isn’t having none of it.

“If you do it, the Clave will have a field day when Valentine tells them. It’s me and me only, because if he heard me during the ball, then he doesn’t know I’m working with you.” As he speaks, it sounds mature, as if he knows the weight of the situation with Valentine more than he’s shown before. “I can’t have that. Even you said it, that you want to avoid headaches, that I’m here to do my part, and this  _ is _ my part.”

Magnus looks at him from where he stands, Alec looking out the windows that stretch from floor to ceiling, the buzz of the city below unaware of the monsters that are more true than legend itself.

Another beat of silence, before Alec takes a deep breath, taking another sip of tea. What he’s going to say might be out of his own comfort zone, but perhaps it might make Magnus see that he’s  _ trying  _ to learn,  _ trying  _ to be something outside of this deal.

He can’t help himself. It’s making him feel ill with hidden  _ what ifs  _ if he doesn’t say this.

“You know, I’ve been thinking about this whole ordeal. How you summoned me for a deal to  _ make the world a better place,  _ but I’m not part of it anymore.” He’s motionless as he speaks, and Magnus can’t help but feel pain from his words. “If I save it, along with you, they won’t know who I am. They won’t know because I’ve lost what the world is.”

He didn’t think he was capable of explaining or showing such emotion, even though Alec has no idea that he’s doing it. Perhaps the will to learn more eases him to do so, or he’s so caught up in  _ having  _ the chance to feel that he doesn’t know what to do with it.

Alec tips his head back, downing the rest of his drink, squeezing his lips together as the taste hits him harder than he thought it would. He throws the mug to the side, shattering it against the brand new wooden floor that lines the entire floor of his new apartment.

“I’m a demon, and I should feel a hunger for the satisfaction of  _ being  _ the one who did it, to save and want people to say my name because I saved them, and I should taste greed on the tip of my tongue like it’s second nature. But I--,” Alec licks his lips, turning around suddenly, eyes landing straight on Magnus, “But I  _ don’t.  _ I don’t feel  _ anything.” _

There’s a pause, one where Alec looks more human than Magnus has ever seen him.

“I feel  _ nothing  _ that I should. I only start to understand--  _ things  _ when  _ you’re  _ here.”

Before he knows it himself, Magnus is taking a step forward, opening his hands out, wanting Alec to speak to him. Somehow, he’s breaking down. Demonic or not, there was a man in there once, an angel that  _ wanted  _ to help the world no matter if it was his duty or not. 

But even then, Magnus doesn’t know if that man was a criminal, a vile existence that’s better off in Edom instead of being given a second chance. A  _ shit  _ second chance, as it may, but it’s still something not many get at all.

“What do you feel?”

Alec parts his lips, about to say the word, but it locks itself to forgotten memories. That damn question again, similar to before but morphed.

_ “I don’t know,”  _ he breathes, shoulders slumped. “I don’t know, Bane. I don’t  _ know anything.” _

“But you  _ do,  _ Alec, there’s always something there, I can help you.”

“And why would you want to do that?” Alec eyes him, spreads his arms as if there’s nothing there  _ for  _ Magnus to help, “To ease your conscience, is that it?”

“No, it’s not that.” Magnus raises his voice, knowing that he can’t back down even if Alec doesn’t necessarily need an argument right now, but they’re both demons, Alec more so than Magnus. “Just  _ explain  _ it to me. For the mission.”

_ For the mission. _

If anything, those words are the only thing that remind Alec of  _ why  _ he’s here, not the bumbling questions and wild guesses as to why his throat hurts, why his mouth feels so dry and his back  _ aches  _ from standing up too long.

He’s searching around the room, trying to look for aid in helping to explain how he feels, and eventually, he bites his bottom lip so hard he almost draws blood. Alec doesn’t want to admit fear, doesn’t know if he can so that his nightmares don’t gallop back to him.

But he can’t hide this, not with Magnus looking at him like  _ that,  _ making him  _ want  _ to believe that somehow Magnus actually cares about him, about what he feels or wants to feel. Alec swallows the rock in his throat, looks down and speaks;

“Like the walls are closing in on me.”

Magnus takes a breath, one that shakes, causing him to rethink what Alec’s going through.

He’s  _ scared. _

A greater demon, a monster that feeds on sins and has received judgement from the angels themselves, a man that’s been burned and ripped of his wings-- he’s scared of the unknown.

“When I was in Edom, at least I knew what burning was, being on my own, because I was down there for a reason,” and then he looks to Magnus, “but now, with  _ you,  _ nothing makes sense. I’m changing and I-- I don’t know what I feel,  _ how  _ that makes me feel.”

Magnus can see Alec is fighting with himself, pushing his thumb into his palm, a habit that makes him more human than he realises.

"Maybe it's selfish of me, to want the things I can't have, but I've never been so torn between right and wrong. There never  _ was  _ a right or wrong, just a task, a  _ mission."  _ The mention of their deal strikes something different inside of Magnus, especially when Alec looks away before speaking again. "This is a lot more than a mission now, and you can't deny that."

He can’t, but it doesn’t mean Magnus will agree to it. There’s still a much bigger story at play than Alec’s emotional redemption.

“Do you mean about what happens to you once the deal is done?”

“I mean you, Magnus, there’s something about  _ you.”  _ He points to him, wanting to prod him, but he doesn’t. Magnus doesn’t even take a reactive flinch back, knowing the fear of touch is rooted deep into Alec’s code.

“And what could you possibly mean by that?” He walks over to the table, seeing the second phone that he sneaked back into Alec’s pocket when leaving that room. 

“That I-- I don’t understand you, why you smiled at me that day, that the words you said were the truth, that you find me a mystery you can’t solve.”

So he’s been researching vocabulary as well, considering he never expected him to wonder what enigma means. Perhaps he’s more human than Magnus originally thought.

“It doesn’t matter what I said, or what I said about  _ us  _ in particular. We both played a part in order for it to be believed.” Magnus catches the moment he clenches his jaw, already knowing he doesn’t agree with what he’s said. “Nothing more, nothing less.”

Alec’s fists clench by his side, not taking his eyes away from Magnus, searching his face for the answers Magnus won’t give him, the answers he knows are there.

"You expect me to believe you? That what you did at that ball was nothing?"

"I expect you to do your end of the bargain, Alec. I'm doing my job, and now it's time for yours." It feels weird to shovel his own emotions back onto the ground again, when not long ago he was wanting to free them, to allow Alec to join him in some sort of reflection.

Alec grunts, taking the phone from Magnus' hand without a second to spare, careful to not make contact, already having seen him take it from the table. "I seem to be doing a lot of sacrifice for someone with a lot to  _ lose." _

Magnus straightens, frowns as Alec uses his words against him, "You’d be smart to take something from those words, not to be petty with them.” 

"Let me talk to Valentine and then we can all go home."

Magnus lets himself slip before he can stop. "And where's home for you?"

He sees the moment Alec's body locks up, the twitch in his jaw as if he wants to laugh at how ridiculous that quest sounds. 

"You already know that, there's no need to ask me," replies Alec, almost a faint whisper Magnus wouldn't hear if they weren't so close. 

"But I want to.” Magnus challenges, stepping to follow him as they both come to a halt again before they collide into each other.

Magnus wants Alec to listen, to speak his mind, but it's not easy when Alec is trapped inside whatever maze of jaded memories is up there.

Alec blinks, shakes his head, looking across Magnus' face.

"Why? Why would you want that?" He can’t take this back and forth, the way Magnus can’t decide for himself what he wants. “Do you care or not? Is this just a mission or not?”

“No, I do care, and this is still a mission.” Magnus remains calm, even though he’s very much afraid of the truth that’s slowly crawling its way to his lips. Alec will know if he’s lying, and so far, he’s been telling the mild truth, avoiding second questions.

"Do you think this is a game?"

"No, Alec, I don't-"

Magnus can feel the air shift, a change in atmosphere that makes his mouth go dry. It's fear, lingering and knocking on Magnus' walls.

"Do you know how badly I wanted to hold your hand? To make  _ us  _ seem real?" He's taking steps forward as Magnus stands his ground, watching the red of Alec's eyes thicken, almost sparking with hatred.

"I said things I shouldn't have."

"You could have  _ lied,  _ I would've known. Isn't that what we were doing?  _ Lying  _ to ourselves?" Alec stops as Magnus begins taking a step back, not wanting to be near Alec when every step he takes is one that strangles Magnus even more.

It's his magic, trying to reach out and  _ take. _

"I can't do that to you." Raising his voice, Magnus never breaks eye contact, even when the eyes that stare back at him refuse to accept the good intent behind his words. "Your whole past is lying to you because you can't prove what's the truth if there's nothing to remember. I can't do that to you, no matter who you are or what you are, it's not me."

There's a pause, one where Alec doesn't move, doesn't blink. He's struggling to know what's right or wrong.

"There's something about me." 

Magnus blinks, confused. "What?"

"That's what you said to me, at the ball," Alec waits for a few more seconds to pass. "What did you mean?"

"It's what I said. There's something about you, something I feel I should be aware of, that you're not who they say you are." Magnus points to his own chest, his own past weighing in on his voice.

"Why would you even think that?" challenges Alec, spite in his voice.

"Why wouldn't I-"

_"Because I'm a fucking_ _monster!"_ The air splits as Alec roars, a growl to his voice that would make any mortal fall to their knees of a horror they'd never understand.

Magnus didn't expect him to shout, never expected him to be on the verge of tears, a glint in Alec's eyes that's a mix between sadness and defeat. 

He truly believes there's no hope. No hope for him or anyone who has a shred of stupidity to believe in him.

"You truly feel that way?" is all Magnus can reply, watching Alec's shoulders rise, defensive in posture.

"It's the only thing I  _ can  _ believe in. And you're a fool for even giving me hope -- for giving  _ you  _ hope that somehow there's a bigger picture to all of this." If Alec could cry, he would be right now, ripping down the wishes he sent to the sky that night he came back to his apartment after the ball.

"Maybe there is."

"You're going to risk your entire life? For a demon? Just because you have a hunch?" He's laughing now, but it's forced, hauntingly so. "What happened to this just being a mission?"

Magnus takes a step forward, wanting to reach for him, knowing the blood boiling in Alec's veins is far from helping the situation.

"It was." Finally, Magnus admits it, and Alec inhales, almost sounding like a sob. 

"It still is," Alec replies, beating Magnus to the punch. "I'm not-- I'm not going to let you do this, I'm not going to let you hope for something out of this when all I do, all I am is destruction, suffering, an endless loop of everything wrong with the world."

"You're not--"

"But that's what I was made to be! I did something the angels would never forgive me for, and I'm not dragging anyone else with me because-- because you  _ care!" _

And at that moment, Alec takes a deep breath, realises what he's said.

A sharp pain shoots through his skull, and he lifts his hands to clutch as his head. Voices spin inside, telling him lies and truths that get mixed up to the point where he can no longer decide which is which.

There's ringing, a faint voice, someone calling his name with the sadness to split a thousand suns.

But it's not here, not now. 

Alec lets his hands fall, realising his mind is playing tricks on him, wanting him to fall only to crash twice as hard.

"Alec," speaks Magnus, softly, afraid of waking whatever monster that lurks in the air, asking for aggression to trigger it.  _ "You _ care, more than you probably realise."

He shakes his head. Alec still doesn't understand, and Magnus doesn't know if he ever will.

"I don't know what you see for me or whatever fucked up future I have a hand in, but I don't want that for you." Alec speaks to the floor, as if he has no right to look at Magnus. "I bring in Valentine, you send me back."

"Don't you see? You wouldn't be saying these things if you didn't care, didn't feel--"

"Leave." 

Magnus takes a pause, one where his frown gradually deepens.

"What?"

"I said leave." Alec takes a step back, Magnus follows, reaching for the hand the world is cursed not to touch.

He doesn’t get chance to see if he’s right or not, because Alec takes another quick step back to avoid him. Alec realises that thinking that way about Magnus, wanting to know why he’s so interested in him, wanting to give him a chance separate from the deal; it’s dangerous.

Magnus is a man with a lot to lose, and Alec is the catalyst to make that happen.

“Alec, you just said you wanted to know why I think that way.” He’s cautious as he speaks, watching how Alec’s fingers twitch, as if he too wanted to reach out and hope. “I can tell you.”

“I don’t want to know, not anymore,” Alec whispers, looking back up to Magnus, feeling gravity squeeze his own chest at how sad Magnus seems, how affected he is by Alec’s words. “I made a mistake.”

“We all do, it’s what makes us human.”

That word strikes through Alec, sharp and without warning.

“Leave,” Alec speaks quietly, the first break in his resolve, “Please, leave.”

Magnus parts his lips to speak again, but Alec is looking at him in a way that speaks for him.

_ Don’t let me feel. _

_ Don’t give me a chance. _

"No," says Magnus, taking another step closer. "I'm not letting you do this alone. We work as a team, not alone."

"You know, my mask was a lone wolf, right?" Alec says, as if it’s a fact Magnus should be aware of. He is, but the fact that Alec wants to bring it up is rather worrying.

“So you feel as if you are? That because the mask reflected a lone wolf, you have to do everything on your own?” It’s easy to see what he’s trying to say, but Magnus doubts anything will get through to him when he’s never been given these words before.

Alec fights with himself, looking away as Magnus doesn’t break eye contact. He’s still there when Alec turns back, and Magnus tries his best not to smile. He wants to, because there’s no need for this to be scary, for Alec to feel he has no choice.

Even if Magnus tells him no, Alec is very much aware that he has a choice, one that he’ll make alone. But that’s not to say he’ll have to take the next one without someone by his side to support him, and Magnus’ gentle nod confirms that.

His mask might have reflected a wolf, but he doesn’t have to be a lone one forever-- they have a pack, a family.

Alec just needs to find his. 

But then there’s the doubt, the sheer  _ fear  _ of wanting such a future. Alec doesn’t want to remember how it feels to be human, because he’s afraid of losing it again. That small hope he felt at the ball, the wish to hold someone’s hand and the desire to kiss someone-- to just  _ know  _ someone more than a voice, a name to a face.

He wants gravity, to make him feel like he’s home on solid ground, not squeezed, forced and pushed by forces he doesn’t have a say over.

Magnus can be that person, to be part of a new family, but the angels didn’t want that for him in the first place, because whoever he knew before can’t even  _ remember _ Alec. If he learns to be  _ Alec  _ again, the second fall might be worse, and he can’t drag a man that means so much to a lot of people into damnation with him.

There’s a small thump of his heart as he thinks that, because Alec does care, as much as a demon can. Or maybe, just maybe, he’s more than that.

Perhaps it’s for the best that it stays this way, Alec’s name a secret Magnus only speaks in the dark, a hope that only shines as bright as the nearest star in the night sky, one amongst many names he’s met.

For some reason though, as he looks at Magnus, he feels a tug at his chest, as if fate isn’t done playing with them yet.

Magnus looks back to the door as Alec lingers in the silence between them, feeling that tug himself, seeing if Alec will allow him to stay or if he truly wants him to go. He fears that if Alec still wants him to leave, he’s going to allow those demons to weave the darkness back into him. To lose hope all together, it’d crush Magnus more than he thought possible.

The future still looks uncertain, but Alec knows one thing, that he’s going to contact Valentine, bring him in and  _ run. _

He’ll run back to Edom himself, won’t give himself hope or the chance to look back. Magnus is a man worthy of much more, and a fallen angel isn’t worth anything.

Magnus, though, sees a lot more than Alec does, and there’s another fight waiting for them once Valentine is behind bars.

Alec’s humanity; the very real and hidden heart he has.

It’s there, and Magnus just needs to find it, to hold it and tell Alec that the demon inside him isn’t what makes him, but what he chooses to do with it.

That’s what the angels want him to think: that he’s nothing more than a nightmare that haunts, and frankly, they’ve done more than a thorough job.

They’ve broken a man who seems far from the fallen he’s meant to be.

Alec finds the strength to finish this, to cut his time here in half even though he said to himself he’d try to find more. He’ll only drag Magnus with him, and even though it’s selfish to think for him, Magnus means too much to Maia, to everyone he’s ever helped if all of this goes sideways. 

“Alright,” whispers Alec, sniffing once. “Stay.”

If Magnus wants more, to stand next to Alec as a fellow Downworlder, he’s going to have be in a very frightening spotlight, to let the Clave know he exists. The angels don’t want that, it’s clear.

He reaches for the Shadowhunter’s phone, wiping his wrist against his nose as it runs. Whispering a curse under his breath, he mindlessly callsthe number, closing his eyes as he brings it to his ear.

Magnus’ fingers twitch, his instincts telling him to reach out and comfort him, but the flinch he makes when Alec doesn’t even know he’s reaching for him makes him halt. Alec hasn’t warranted comfort, even though he visibly needs it, Magnus doesn’t know if he’ll accept it, at least not from Magnus right now.

Magnus is confusing him, not believing he’s real in the sense that he’s  _ talking  _ to him, allowing him to  _ be  _ something even with what limited time he has here. Alec still wants the deal to go through, that Magnus will send him back, because there’s still a horrendous amount of mystery Alec doesn’t even know about. 

Alec doesn’t know anything about himself, only what he’s hidden from Magnus and avoiding remembering himself. But he painfully holds onto it, otherwise there’d be nothing at all, a simple echo, a shell of who he was filled with the ashes of his past life.

One, two, three rings until the line grows quiet, a subtle rustle.

_ “Swordsman,”  _ the voice says, and Alec can hear their smile,  _ “I’ve been waiting for you call.” _

Alec’s mouth feels dry, pushes his teeth together so that his jaw starts to hurt. He has to say something, he has to do this for Magnus and the world he’ll leave behind, but at least he’ll be able to do one good thing.

Even if the world doesn’t even know it’s him.

Looking to the Soul Sword hanging on the wall, it pulses to life slowly, knowing what’s coming. So, Alec licks his lips, takes a deep breath Valentine won’t hear as he feels his own magic weave the familiar black suit onto his body.

Giving one last look at Magnus, he nods at him, turning his back so that he doesn't have to face Magnus head on while he does this. Neither of them want to do it, not when there's a name on their mind they want to know more about, to understand more.

Alec straightens his tie as he speaks, looks down to the city and wonders of the conversation ahead.

Magnus watches as the Alec he wants to know fades to an Alec he's made to be. His voice lacks emotion, his attire clean and sharp, as if any effort he makes is completely free of hassle.

“I heard you wanted to make a deal with me.” Alec hates saying it, hates that he has to sound convincing.

_ "And what makes you say that? Unless I'm big news right now, I wouldn't know." _

Valentine must have said something to irritate Alec, because Magnus can see the shadow on his cheek darken. He's clenching his jaw, biting his tongue.

"I'm well aware of who you are,  _ Valentine.  _ The Clave are rather clear about how much hatred they have for you." Alec closes his eyes, trying to calm the distaste that swells inside for that man he's speaking to. "But I also know a man with ill intent, I can hear it in the way you speak."

_ "Ah, ill intent? You sound awfully confident about that when you're of that same group." _

The air feels heavier, grows thick with magic Magnus can barely see.

"Don't twist your words. I'm not the man working with the blood he preaches hating, so please enlighten me as to how I'm similar in any way to you."

An eerie silence follows after that, one Alec wishes he never set the bait for.

_ "Well, you are fallen, are you not?"  _ Valentine's words send an awful feeling down Alec's spine.  _ "Technically, you could say I'm one as well, considering no one seems to share my belief, but the angels are the ones that set up that plan of action." _

Alec holds back from crushing the phone.

_ "You're familiar with them, aren't you? Or does your memory still not reach back that far, that you can't remember exactly who did this to you?" _

He's about to crush the phone from the weight of his own anger, but a hand taking his wrist stops him.

Magnus is there, making sure no skin makes contact, but he's there. He presses his thumb into the fabric, as if to soothe him, but Alec doesn't have the heart to look at him.

"I'm not calling you for petty conversation, and if that's all you require, I think this has been a sufficient amount of time hearing your lonely words."

A click sounds on the other end.

_ "Oh, I'm very much not done with you, demon. I still want that sword, and you're going to give it to me." _

"And what could you possibly offer me, Valentine? What do you think I'd exchange for something I can't physically part with?"

_ "You'll see,"  _ he says, as if Alec should know what he means without more explanation.  _ "I'll have something you'll be interested in." _

He's not lying, Alec fears that.

"I'm listening." Alec finally has the courage to look to Magnus, and his expression is nothing short of worry.

_ "I'll send you a location. You are to come alone, as you are."  _ There's some shuffling on the other end, a clang or two.  _ "I expect you to be at the meeting point as soon as you get it. I have a world to save, not people to wait for." _

The line goes flat, a continuous sound.

No hello, no goodbye. 

 

\- - - - -

 

_ "A storm approaches in three parts, _

_ and no one sees it coming even though the warning signs are there, _

_ because the unknown is exciting, and fear is dangerous _ _." _


	6. The Wolf

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TRIGGER WARNINGS // BLOOD, HEAVY VIOLENCE, MANIPULATION  
> \- I'm going to aim for a chapter every month. rushing them last time ended up me deleting and restarting the whole thing again. this way I know that what I'm posting is what i'm happy with.
> 
> \- I've had some people say to credit the quotes I use, but the quotes are made by me after I've written the chapter. I don't take them from anywhere, they're made purely through what my hands write out. 
> 
> i'm so so so so happy to see that people are happier with this new version, and I can't wait to get to the scenes I can't wait to write. while this chapter may give you more questions than answers, trust me in saying that it'll all make sense by the end. it's all about the mystery (unless you pick up on my clues)
> 
> big thank you to Jay, you really got me through this chapter, and it wouldn't be uploading today without your guidance. <3
> 
> two songs have been added to the playlist as usual per chapter.
> 
> hope you enjoy! social tag is #ODSfic

_Wolves howl to sound strong in numbers, even though they may be few,_

_But what happens when there's no sound? No one to hear them?_

 

_\- - - - -_

 

Various people walk past Magnus, some employees and other concerned citizens. Little do they know of the world just beyond their reach, the limitations of their knowledge. Fear sets them back many paces from believing in such horrors, preferring to live easy instead of diving for discovery.

Saying that, there’s more people willing to take that step for discovery than many might think, and Magnus is among those few that dare to seek the impossible.

Alec is that impossible, a wading bird at the edge of the river, both wings broken beyond repair, wondering which way to turn when he’s too exhausted mentally to walk and not able to fly. He’s trapped in glass, a box that easily slices what he thought was tough skin, revealing a hidden side to the greater demon who still can’t vision right from wrong.

It’ll take time. Magnus _has_ time, plenty of it.

As the police station moves around him, people becoming blurred as Magnus takes a deep breath, and another, the inevitable silence sets in. To fill that void, questions haunt from different fears, hopes and inescapable realities. 

Who was Alec before? Why does he insist on confusing Magnus, saying he’s one thing and making Magnus believe something completely different? There’s no way that the man doomed to fall by the angels themselves keeps a dog as his companion and studies in sweatpants. 

It’s absurd, almost comedic, but it’s the small details Magnus notices, one by one like clues to a blank puzzle, and all he has to go by are the shapes in which the pieces are made. 

Because Alec _is_ a blank puzzle. No past, no future, just sharp edges and confusing joints that don’t seem to fit.

Magnus might be making a promise he’ll wish he never made, but there’s no denying he wants to give Alec that chance. His heart can’t turn down an obvious soul so lost in his own hatred for himself that he doesn’t _want_ help. Rubbing his thumb over the deal’s mark on his wrist, Magnus looks down, seeing the small glimmer of the drawing when the warmth makes the mark appear. When his thumb leaves, the mark fades, and he’s left closing his eyes, regretting the forgiving heart he has that’s cost him more pain than anything else.

The Downworld is his family, the only one he has left, and his heart _aches_ at the thought of missing the chance to save another member, no matter how far from saving he might be. 

“Lucian.”

Magnus stands as soon as Luke walks into the main precinct of the station. He’s carrying a weighty collection of reports but his smile remains ever strong.

“Magnus,” he greets, placing a firm hand on Magnus’ shoulder. “Good to see you.”

"And it's good to see you, friend."

Gesturing to the end of the hall, Luke buzzes Magnus through, and they make way to his office, various colleagues sending a smile their way and the occasional interruption to update him on a case. Magnus is aware he’s not here for the mundane, but for the hidden world. 

It must be nice to have an escape, to feel mundane if only for a few hours. There’s no reason to constantly hide away, not when there are rules to easily follow set by the dubbed leaders themselves. Thankfully, the Clave don’t have much influence over the mundane world, not as much as the Downworlders; running bars, clubs, firefighters. If anything, they help the world the most while the Clave try to tell them to turn left or right. 

Luke is one of those Downworlders, a man with a heart of gold, willing to take that extra step so the world remains safe for both supernatural and mundane. He’s been part of Magnus’ small circle for a long time with him being the Alpha of the New York pack, and there’s also a close knit between most leaders here. Ragnor has similar friends in London, and Magnus is slowly building up connections all over, along with the hundreds he already has from his many years alive.

“I’ve spoken to Raphael,” Luke begins, opening his office and allowing Magnus to step through first. “He said there’s no involvement with him or his clan regarding the collection of demon blood. Neither my pack nor his clan can find any rogue vampire, or _any_ rogue Downworlders for that matter.”

“So it’s the Clave?” Is Magnus’ immediate thought.

“At this point, they’re desperate. I wouldn’t put it past them to try and pin it on us or Valentine so they can do it behind our backs.” Luke offers Magnus a seat, which he gladly accepts with a small thanks. He continues speaking as he walks round to his desk, pulling out his chair to sit down with a sigh. “But they’d still need you, or a warlock crazy enough to agree in summoning him.”

Magnus tries not to laugh. Luke glares at him, but it slowly transforms into a smile.

“You’d know about that, wouldn’t you?” Luke says, bringing his hands together as he leans onto the desk.

Magnus blinks, only just clicking when Luke brings up his phone, showing his recent conversation history with Maia. “She told you?”

Luke hums, “She did. When were you going to tell me?”

“Today, actually.” He’s not lying, and Luke can tell, because there’s no nervous ticks he’s come to learn from Magnus.

“I completely understand why you kept it a secret, Magnus. There’s no harm done. But now I do know, it’s best if we keep it between trusted individuals. Catarina, Ragnor-- they should both know when you think they’ll be ready.”

“I don’t think they will be,” Magnus replies, and Luke laughs. “They’ll probably call me insane.”

“I doubt that, I admire them as much as you do. There’s a reason you haven’t told them yet, but I understand that you’ll know the best time, for both yourself _and_ them.” Luke looks at something on his papers before speaking up again. “I bet you never expected to do this, anyway.”

“Not at all.” Magnus rests one leg over the other, adjusting his ear cuff. “None of it. I guess my wish to save people went down the… unexpected route. It’s working, so far, thankfully.”

“In a way you want it to, or?” Damn Luke for asking such a question.

He simply smiles, Magnus looking away and wanting to answer, but not knowing how. There’s so much he wants to talk about, but Luke barely knows Alec, and the topics he wants to bring up are best to speak about _with_ Alec.

They’re about him, after all.

Magnus just changes the subject instead. “I’m telling Isabelle about him, too.”

"You're telling the Head of the New York Institute?" He can't believe a word Magnus just said, but it's _Magnus Bane._

"Isabelle is rather charming, and she's one of the most accepting of the Downworld in this area. Unfortunately, it's not Aline or Helen leading the charge, but Isabelle will at least hear us out before reporting us to the Clave."

"So you're going to take a chance?"

Magnus hums, looks down to his wrist, remembers a name. "Yes."

Luke can see the thoughts on his face, the questions he no doubt needs answers to.

"Maia told me she's meeting Isabelle and telling her tonight. I'm guessing if Alec is going after Valentine, it'll be useful for all of us to be caught up on your little deal." Luke looks up from his papers at that, and Magnus smiles innocently.

"I'll be honest, it wasn't meant to turn out this way. Things got… _complicated."_

There's a beat of silence, Luke still looking at him. "Complicated how?"

 _Oh dear._ Magnus can't lie to him, not because he'll know, but because he's a trusted friend and even if there's a greater cost to the growing questions he has, Luke deserves to hear them. He's been there for Magnus countless times, and Magnus isn't a person to hide anything from a trusted friend unless absolutely necessary.

That was the case at the start, but now everyone in his close circle should be aware of Alec's very real and confusing presence here. _Especially so_ if Magnus is going to go forward with his plan.

Catarina and Ragnor are next in line, and Magnus isn't ready to be at the brunt of their disappointment. They're already so protective of him, and for Magnus to risk summoning a greater demon with a such a high price; he's going to recieve a little conflict.

Nevertheless, he has confidence his lifetime friends will understand if he explains himself properly, introduces him accordingly, and making completely sure that it's a peaceful exchange and not caught in a mess or at the wrong time.

Introducing everyone slowly seems to be working so far, but Magnus has been alive long enough not to trust a good streak for too long.

"Complicated as in -- _Alec_ is complicated. He's not what I expected him to be, nor is there any evidence except from hints that he's the demon old books speak of him as. He's powerful, I know that because I can feel how volatile his magic is, but it's as if he's never going to breach the boundaries he’s made for himself. There’s no trust, no second thoughts for him, only one clear answer that never seems to be one of his own creation."

"You're telling me a greater demon that you summoned from Edom has restraint?" Luke is no longer thoroughly interested in his papers, but with this seemingly once in a lifetime event. "That he has morals?"

"No, not that. If he did, our conversation right now wouldn't be happening, and it wouldn't be if he was too aggressive either." Magnus hopes he's making sense. He can't quite get his head around Alec and how he ticks yet, but there's _something_ for him to go by, at least.

"Decision making based on judgement? Or does he still have bias?"

"Both, oddly. Sometimes it feels he's pushed by external forces, and others he's a deer caught in headlights. There are some things he doesn't understand anymore, for example emotions and various tastes." He gestures with his hands, trying to convey what he means through motion. "He does mundane things like reading when I know for certain he can absorb knowledge in seconds. Alec chooses, but there's also times where _he_ doesn't."

Luke clicks his tongue, eyes darting down to his desk. He taps his finger once, twice before speaking, having figured it out 

"Greater impulses. When he's confused, he protects himself the only way he knows how."

Magnus nods, smiling slightly, "Exactly."

Lost in thought again, Luke leans back in his chair, taking an interest in the steaming coffee cup on his desk. "Maia mentioned he's a fallen. I've heard of his story before, but no one really knows the truth, do they?"

"I think Alec knows more than he's telling us."

"A past he doesn't want to remember?" Luke replies.

"Perhaps," Magnus purses his lips, humming. "But we know he was once angelic, and now he's not."

Something in Luke's posture changes, a little stiff in how he holds his shoulders. Magnus catches on to this shift in atmosphere, and looking back on what he said, he understands why.

But Luke beats him to the punch.

"I should talk to him," says Luke, releasing the sudden weight that grips his chest. "I've been through that, losing what I once was."

Something in the room shifts, as if the topic is heavy for both of them. There’s history, mostly for Luke, and it’s history that’s still very present and something he deals with every single day. If he’s offering, then he really means it, and Magnus knows he doesn’t need to babysit him.

"You'd do that?"

"If you truly believe he's someone worth giving a chance, if you can feel something about him that doesn't add up, then we'll find out what it is." Luke understands how well Magnus reads people, how he’s been alive long enough to make big decisions while also considering the consequences of many situations. It’s not easy, nor is it gentle on the soul, but it’s a skill Magnus uses well.  "I'm not letting a demon with the Clave's glorified coward option roam freely with no clear path."

"What do you mean, Lucian?"

"I'm saying he shouldn't be left to figure it out on his own. All of us, we're family, and we're the only ones who understand what he might be going through. It's a frightening world, even more so when you're in the dark with every light against you." The Alpha gestures to the picture frame on his desk, turning it around so Magnus can clearly see the picture.

Magnus smiles with ease, heart warming at the sight of himself, Maia, Luke and Simon all posing for a picture with their arms around each other. Smiles are wide on their faces, and the sun makes them all glow. It was a few days after Simon found out he was a daylighter.

“Family is what he’s missing,” Luke turns the picture frame back around, looking at it that bit longer before turning back to Magnus. “It can’t be easy being forced into a world he barely remembers, but somehow has so much power he can’t imagine being anything but the monster he is.”

“You always were a smart man,” replies Magnus, Luke shrugging and accepting the compliment nonetheless. “I really appreciate how open you are to the possibility.”

“You saved me, Magnus,” Luke starts, clear emotion in his voice. “It’s not about owing you, we don’t give to receive. I’ve learned the world I was forced into because of you, helped me step forward when I didn’t feel I could. Granted, you gave me space when I started to learn on my own, but you were always there when I needed to turn back.” He stands up, sighing as he walks around to the front of the desk, leaning against it. Magnus still has his eyes on him when he starts speaking again. “There’s no greater man to trust than you, Bane. If Alec is any part of the man he wants to be, truthfully, he’ll let you help him.”

“And you’ll be there to help,” Magnus adds, Luke smiling as he nods.

“Just like you were for me. If anything, perhaps talking to someone who has lost the blood they once had will help him realise it’s not all bad. We’re good people, better than most because we try to be, we’re just pinned as the villains to make it easier on the heroes who named themselves that in the first place.”

Magnus really admires Luke, not just because of his loyalty, but because of how honest he speaks of the world, how open he is to change. 

“We don’t know what the kid did, but something just doesn’t add up about this. If a supposed greater demon of Edom makes you second guess if he has actual humanity, no history behind him-- who is he _really?”_

His heart skips at the question again, Magnus’ magic brimming beneath his skin, almost furious with how much time Alec’s been down there, a name to a face that no one even sees. “That’s what I’d like to find out, too.”

Alec was surrounded by light only to drown in the dark, but now there’s a chance for him to take Magnus’ hand, to accept the help he didn’t know he’s been needing.

“He probably doesn’t even believe you want to help him,” ponders Luke, crossing his arms. “If anything, he’s probably waiting for the second you send him back.”

“Alec wants that, for me to send him back,” Magnus replies, placing his hands together as he looks to the window. “I can tell he’s afraid of me, not in the sense of power, but he said he can’t understand why I care so much about him. Frankly, I don’t either. I trust my heart too much these days.”

Luke doesn’t seem to agree, frowning a little. “You don’t.”

“And why do you say that?” 

“You may use your heart but you don’t trust it.” He presses two fingers to his own temple. “This is what you trust more, right? Catarina told me that you once said you can’t trust what’s broken.”

Magnus pauses, bites his lip, shakes his head. “Then why do I trust Alec?”

“I think you know the answer to that question, Magnus.” Luke replies, allowing Magnus to digest that question on his own. Magnus can’t help but dip his head, the rush of questions about Alec joined by a volley of more, mixing and blending until they become one.

_Maybe he’s not broken after all._

 

\- - - - -

 

He’s just walking out of the station when his phone rings, _SWORDSMAN_ written across the screen. In his head, Magnus reads _Alec,_ not the _Swordsman_ name everyone calls him. Perhaps he’s open to the idea of accepting Alec more than he realises.

There’s only a slight moment of hesitation before he presses the answer button, bringing it to his ear.

“Alec,” he says, taking a deep breath Alec hears. “I’m guessing this is news about Valentine?”

_“He gave me the location. I’m there right now.”_

Cold grips Magnus, and for a single beat in time, it feels as if his heart stops. “Wait, you’re there already?”

 _“Yeah,”_ Alec doesn’t seem strong when he says that. _“The more time I waste, the more Valentine gets to plan his next move.”_ And of course, he misses out the rest.

Alec doesn’t have the heart to say what he truly thinks, that he _doesn’t want any more harm to come to Magnus or his people, to the hidden world as a whole._ That’d be too much emotion, emotion he can’t handle, can’t fathom.

“We’re meant to be a team.”

 _“And I said to you I have to do this on my own. If you get involved and this goes sideways, the Clave will never leave you alone for as long as you live. I’ll be in and out, hand in Valentine without a trace I was here, and then I’m-- gone.”_ Swallowing hard, Alec adjusts himself on the building he’s perched on, feeling a little unsure about what he’s just said. _“Deal complete, the end.”_

Another pause, and Magnus curses that he can’t even form a sentence without worrying his words will be taken the wrong way. Alec is sensitive in a way that the slightest bit of hope becomes _crushed_ by the years he’s spent in Edom.

“But what if it isn’t the end?” 

Alec doesn’t respond. Magnus doesn’t hear anything on the other end of the phone. No breathing, no shuffling.

Not until he speaks again. _“You think I’m going to do a bad job? That’s rather rude, Bane.”_

That tone is back, the one he saw the very magic of Edom warp back into him when he spoke to Valentine on the phone. It’s been three days since then, and this is the first time Magnus has heard his voice since that moment.

He hates it, in honesty. This is the demon people fear, not the man Magnus knows is there somewhere.

“That’s not what I’m implying, please stop joking about this.” There’s clear worry in his voice, and Alec starts to chuckle. “Be careful, won’t you?” 

 _“Worried about me?”_ Alec looks down, smiling under the shadow of the moon. Something warms in his chest, fleeting.

There’s a clear sigh from Magnus’ end. “Is it a crime that I am? Just-- come back. I need to talk to you about something that’s been on my mind.”

Alec’s silent again, but Magnus hears the deep breath he takes, the stutter of his first word, as if it’s harder to speak than anything else.

_“I need to do this alone.”_

“You don’t need to do anything alone, Alec.” Magnus is brought back to his words with Luke, how wise he was, how determined even if he hasn't met the guy in trusting him. Luke, a stranger to Alec, wants to help even if the surrounding voices tell him no. "No one has to do anything alone."

 _"Are you forgetting I was made to be this way?"_ Pain is evident in his words, held together by strings of hatred. _"I wasn't allowed to remember being someone, or being with anyone. I'm meant to be alone, and that's the punishment I'll face."_

Magnus wants to shake sense into him. "That's what they want you to believe."

Alec takes a deep breath, wondering if he should allow Magnus to continue. Curiosity wins out.

_"And what would you want me to believe, Bane? That there's hope for me after this? That the Clave will welcome me with open arms as their saviour?"_

"No. I believe you can have something."

_"Feel free to elaborate anytime soon."_

Cursing him under his breath, Magnus grips the phone tighter, closes his eyes as he looks up to the night sky.

"A friend."

He expected the silence, but not the response. _"A friend?"_ There's a faint breeze blowing through the speaker. _"Wouldn't that be nice, if I stayed."_

"Perhaps it would." Magnus feels as if he's twiddling his thumbs without doing so. "Alec, all I ask is you return. Not for the mission, not for the deal-- return for _you."_

 _"You're acting as if this is dangerous for me. He's a mere man more lost than I am."_ Alec doesn't sound very confident, even if he tries to be.

And it's clear he's trying to change the conversation topic. Or he's being quick, not wanting to give Magnus time to make him see a brighter future at the end of this. Another path.

"But he's a man with a goal, and that changes things." Finally portalling back to his apartment, the usual calm atmosphere feels tense, cold. "Do you have goals, Alec?"

Alec clenches his jaw. He's right. Magnus is right.

 _Fuck._ Alec wipes a hand down his face, the question echoing from one side of his thoughts to the other. There's no escape from it, not one he can see right now.

_"Frustratingly intelligent, aren't you?"_

"I am, but that's not what I'm trying to be." Magnus dislikes the annoyed grunt he hears Alec make.

_"You piss me off, Bane. Our deal is final, bound to me, and you know that. This is my last mission, and you have to promise me you'll give me your end of the deal."_

"Why do you insist I do when I clearly don't want that anymore?"

A pause. Another one to add to the many that have happened during this new ground of conversation. This may be the last time he talks to Alec, and god forbid it be the last he hears of _this_ Alec, the one that wants to care but fears doing so.

_"You have to do this for me. If you truly care, you'll send me back."_

There's no persuading him, not yet. Magnus will make time after this, and even if it doesn't seem possible, he'll damn well try.

 _"Promise me."_ The demon begs, almost broken.

Magnus inhales, clenches his fist that bares the deal's mark not too far away.

"I promise." 

Alec seems to buy it, for now. Worst of all, Alec will be able to tell if he's honest with that promise or not. But he’s not done with requests, this next one being related to the mission at hand.

 _“What you said about me, about how I can’t hurt another. What about now?”_ He seems tense as he speaks, like he doesn’t really want to ask.

Magnus can’t answer straight away, conflicted by what he promised himself at the start, to how much things have changed _since_ then. There’s a lot of history between them in such a short time, history he doesn’t dare to name as useless, because it’s helping Alec learn more than any of them can really measure.

Besides that, this rule, where no souls can be taken, it may have to be thwarted for the sake of a better future. Magnus isn’t one to do that, though, but there’s hope inside Magnus that even if he gives Alec the clear, he won’t do it.

“And what if I say yes?”

 _“Then I’ll do my job.”_ Alec responds, confident this time. This is what he was made to do, made to be.

On the other end, Magnus isn’t as confident. Not for the fact that he will, but Alec’s words aren’t that truthful if Magnus’ beliefs of change come to light.

“Then prove to the angels who you are, Alec.” 

And those words crush Alec’s stern expression. There’s no emotion he feels that can help him understand how he’s supposed to process that. There’s still nothing when the line goes dead, the deafening, monotone sound of the call ending continuing until Alec snaps from the cage those words strangled him with.

Lowering his phone, Alec looks at the screen, magic _wanting_ to reach out and crush the object he holds so faint. Magnus is a man of words and action, but Alec could clearly hear how much he hated to say those words, and Alec is familiar with the feeling of hatred.

He feels it every second, but it’s slowly been dissolving with one, singular presence being around him.

Bane, or _Magnus_ as he should be calling him if it weren’t for his worry of attachment. He’s slowly, achingly so, evolving every part of Alec, and he’s afraid Magnus won’t like the man he uncovers. 

Perhaps Magnus is right, that following his urges will only prove why the angels condemned him to Edom. Closing his eyes, he holds the phone closer to his chest for a moment, ignoring the wish to squeeze the confusing device between his fingers.

Alec can clearly see Magnus’ demons, but Alec is blatantly ignoring his own. That needs to change, and he’s close to believing he can.

He’ll make time, eventually. But as much as he’d like to believe that, Alec’s immortality is painfully fake. Even if he lives for years and _years,_ there’s no _living_ down in Edom. 

Nothing truly _lives_ there, only punished, saddened and left alone in the silence of crackling flames.

 

\- - - - -

_2 HOURS LATER_

 

Nightfall swallows this side of the world, the clouds reaching across like claws, crumbling under pressure as rain starts to fall. Alec waits until it’s late, late enough where the sky starts to paint a new day behind the cover of darkness. 

The Soul Sword sits against his back as he leans over the side of the building, suit jacket rustling in the wind, skinny tie moving with it as he looks down. There’s guards, all awaiting his arrival and told with little preparation how strong Alec truly is.

It should be easy, and as red eyes scan through various buildings in this seemingly large warehouse yard, he’s met with many people with more demons than his own. Magnus said to do his job, and he’ll do that _without_ proving to the angels he deserved his fate. He’ll do it with justice, if he needs to.

Alec pulls down the mask he’s become accustomed to, the wolven disguise that clings to his face, now influenced by some of Alec’s own dark magic. _Edom’s_ magic.

He takes a casual step forward, dropping to the ground with a thud, dust tumbling upwards from the new cracks in the concrete. The guards turn, but nothing’s there to answer such a sound. Sharing glances, the guards think it’s a demon, but without sight of him, there’s no guessing what rodent might be playing tricks on them.

But a lone wolf is far from a rodent, and before they can react, there’s a figure materialising in front of them, black smoke thick as it lunges towards them from a singular, outstretched hand. It wraps thickly around their throats, stealing their breath away, literally.

They fall unconscious to the ground with their own dull thump, and Alec leaves them in slumber as he places his hands back into his pockets, walking through the small gap between them. He’s pulled back by a darker force, to which he stops, clenching his teeth to the point where it hurts.

Voices scowl at him for ignoring his true calling, to collect their sins, but Alec forces one foot in front of the other. Chains wrap around his wrists, his neck, pulling him back towards them no matter how much he walks away. The friction he feels, like they're digging into his skin remains, and it keeps getting _more_ painful the further he walks away.

He hopes his mentality lasts..

Guards follow one by one until he reaches the main room, where there’s a larger number of them, concentrated around the man behind all of this. Valentine.

The invisible chains gain more weight with each soul he ignores, and as he rubs at his wrists, his neck, he's reminded why he's doing this. Magnus' voice appears again, faint and barely loud enough to hear under the countless commands his blood gives him.

But with the deal's end so close, Alec turns his attention back to the room, hoping his hunger for sins will quiet down once the real reason he's here is in his grasp.

It’s horribly dusty, dreadfully dull and disgustingly warped with all sorts of machines. This is definitely his base of operations, and the sickly green that emits from most corners of the large warehouse makes Alec feel ill. A man who reflects his own mind into his environment is a man far from saving.

Alec doesn’t let the chains pull him down much longer, because he’s not wasting time anymore, taking an even stealthier, more horrifying approach. He lifts one hand, curling one finger inward, commanding the world around him to shift to his will.

That sickly green starts to flicker, catching fire, turning red and pulling oxygen from the air itself. The guards perk up, reaching for their holsters when the bulbs in the ceiling shatter one by one, the glass raining down and fuses sizzling until they fade. Alec watches from the shadows as the room becomes dark, the guards shouting orders to each other, but the one man he’s here for seems delighted by the show.

It makes Alec frown, wondering how much darkness this man truly has inside him. A crow screeches from one of the open windows, a flock of them flying through, attracted to the bright flames and the menacing atmosphere. Alec didn’t call them, and he’s lured to them for a second before turning back to Valentine, who now has his eyes on Alec.

He’s spotted the red eyes that bloom, _thrive_ in the darkest of places, and as the guards drop from the magical flames that knock them out, only red illuminates the hall. It’s mostly shadow, but when the flames flicker high and bright, it shows a glimpse of Alec far away at the other side of the hall.

Valentine grins, holding his hand out, as if to invite him in. Alec accepts, hands in his pockets as he walks forward, keeping his jaw clenched shut as Valentine seems to be preparing his speech.

“Ah, Swordsman. I was wondering when you’d turn up, considering your eagerness to meet me.” He’s surprisingly calm as he speaks.

But Alec doesn’t respond, the red that consumes his eyes sparking, the white of his eyes inking black. Valentine’s grin drops when Alec reaches for the sword on his back, unsheathing it from the magical glove that holds it up.

As he brings it down, still walking towards Valentine, the tip of the blade ignites, flames licking up the metal and towards Alec’s hand which turns black from the veins that spread over the surface of his skin.

“I must have missed the memo. I didn’t realise you were so mute off the phone,” Valentine jokes, but takes a step back when Alec brings one of his hands up, adjusting his own tie. “I don’t appreciate such rude people in my presence, so please, would you care to listen to my deal proposition?”

Alec’s vision is blinded by rage, anger, grief for the people he’s met that have suffered through the actions of this man. Sin bleeds around him, and Alec’s heart pulses for the future where this man won’t be a villain that holds his reign over the Downworld.

Not only that, but with his eyes on the prize and mental chains so heavy, pulling him in all directions, he knows this'll be the moment to silence all that pain.

Valentine’s words make him smirk, and after he's finished readjusting his tie, Alec flicks one finger. And that’s all it takes to send Valentine flying into a concrete pillar, the wind knocked from him as the Shadowhunter sinks to the even colder floor than his heart.

“Apologies, Valentine,” Alec begins, halting just before his feet. “I make one deal at a time. And I especially don’t make deals with the likes of you.”

As the tip of the blade is pointed towards his chest, Valentine panics. “Then surely my offer will be _outstanding_ compared to whoever you’re currently dealing with.”

Alec would laugh, but Valentine looks and sounds as if he’s being serious. Surely there’s no limit to this man’s insanity.

“Humour me, then.” No harm in finding out.

However, as Valentine’s expression shifts, Alec regrets asking. He grins with sickening satisfaction, a glint in his eye that’s not possibly human. The air turns dry, a heavy weight pressing down without gravity as a witness. Alec’s nervous, now, and he hates that he is.

But nothing will ever feel as heavy, as chilling as what Valentine offers him.

“I can tell you your past.”

For a moment, the words don’t settle. Alec can’t hear them, doesn’t want to because all this time he’s believed nothing of the sort can happen. Alec can feel anger ripple, _boil_ beneath his skin, making his magic more volatile as he takes a step forward, pressing the tip of the blade to Valentine’s neck. “You’re a man with nothing to lose, aren’t you? Trying to bribe me with something nobody knows? I doubt the angels would've told you.”

What makes Alec even more worried about his words, is that no voices guided him. They’re silent. His mind is blank, left to make the decision on his own.

“Oh, but you’re holding their sword, yes? I want to follow their plan to the book, and what better way than to send you to me, where I hold the greatest treasure of all,” Valentine lifts two fingers to his temple, taps to indicate his mind, _“Memories.”_

Alec doesn’t realise he’s falling until something grabs him, a force he can’t see. There’s no one else here except himself and Valentine, so why does it feel as if he can’t move?

Valentine seems more confident than he was minutes ago, and that very fact makes Alec more reluctant to continue this conversation. But there’s no moving his limbs, not when the one thing he’s wanted may be true.

“You’re lying.” snaps Alec.

“Can you tell?” He’s mocking him, as if Valentine knows of his powers. “Or is that weakness we all have becoming a problem for you?”

Magnus spoke of this before, didn’t he? He called Alec a mystery, how he’s so confused, an enigma that seems impossible to solve. Perhaps he believes Alec has a weakness that makes him so mysterious, that he _shouldn’t_ have such a thing to deter him from what he was made to be.

His hands start to shake, adrenaline making him feel cold without even knowing it. Then it turns to nerves, lost as to why Valentine is suddenly so confident, not seemingly scared of Alec anymore when he cowered a few steps back mere minutes ago. It’s overwhelming, as dedicated parts of his brain start to malfunction, as if he’s not even able to understand the basics of anything.

Alec’s been going through a process, gaining _humanity_ back in small, insignificant amounts, but Magnus has seen those very small amounts as gateways, a clear chance or sign for more. His voice repeats multiple words, again and again, trying to remind himself of why he’s here, why Magnus is wanting to believe in him when he’s so far from helping himself.

His lungs stutter, feeling something skip in his chest. Alec is suffering through a new emotion, _fear,_ and it’s swallowing him whole.

He’s scared as to why Valentine isn’t lying, why after everything he thought was true is seemingly fake. If Valentine can give him his memories, why did he betray himself in believing he’d never have that closure? To find out why he was forced to be the way he is? 

Why did they force him to be a _monster?_

Alec’s hand drops the sword, the metal clanging against the floor.

“You wouldn’t have them, that’s not possible.” He can feel the chains tighten, muscles locking, desperately trying to listen for something else, another voice that's not the rapidly growing one.

_He's telling the truth._

_He has them._

_He's not lying._

Shoes shuffle behind them, and as Alec turns to command his magic, it halts almost violently in his system, jolting him.

A small girl, pigtails on either side of her head as she holds herself. She’s frightened, but Alec can clearly sense her magic. She’s a warlock, alone and suddenly aware of what Alec is as she looks at him. The fear set in her eyes only dwindles the black veins on his skin, his eyes weakening their bloom of red.

Alec suddenly wants to hide, to cover his eyes and _run._ He doesn’t want to be feared, suddenly, and seeing how much this warlock looks at him with borderline hatred, it’s killing him from the inside.

Three knocks sound in his chest, bringing him back, but it’s nothing compared to the ghostly hands that wrap around his mind, picking at his worst fears. Alec doesn’t want to be feared by something so innocent, so new to the world. 

He doesn’t even know how long he’s been standing there, feeling his powers dwindle with each slowing second. It feels like hours, but it’s barely a minute.

“Ah, as I guessed,” Valentine’s voice appears behind him, but Alec’s frozen, staring at the small soul that doesn’t seem to move. “The angels weren’t thorough enough, it seems.” 

Alec feels the jolt of hatred before he uses it, gaining the rush of adrenaline to turn back to Valentine, but halfway, he’s met with a sharp pain in his neck, one that moves him to the side, away from the force of Valentine’s hand against his neck.

_How did he move so quick?_

A needle pierces through him, deep, red blood in the vial that connects to it. Alec doesn’t have time to defend himself in such a state when Valentine starts pressing his thumb down onto the other end.

There’s nothing, at first. It’s rather cold, almost soothing.

But then the rush starts, the jolt, as if electricity flows through him, searing the little hope that clings to his bones, the hope Magnus gave him. It suddenly burns, continues to rise as he feels it bloat, drowning him from the inside out.

“Humanity is rather flawed, isn’t it?” Valentine whispers as Alec’s eyes fade to complete black, veins spreading violently from where the needle pierces his skin, and as each second passes, he’s drowning in darkness. They stop just at his jaw, and Alec’s lips part, silence escaping.

Pain rings out, but there’s no sound that escapes his mouth, bones twisting and cracking under the weight of such power that awakens inside, blockades destroyed in the call of a greater evil. Alec falls to one knee, reaching up with trembling hands, gripping onto Valentine’s arm, grunting with the effort to keep himself up.

A voice speaks in his head, one that clears the rapidly thickening fog.

_Show the angels who you really are._

There’s a small gap, one he reaches for, but Valentine’s voice blurs that light until it zips out of existence.

“Your greatest fears, the hope for your memories to return, becoming a monster when you only want to help save the world, to make it better,” Valentine grabs hold of his face, but he doesn’t burn, digs his fingertips into the demon’s jawbone. _“Alexander,_ you disappoint me.”

Weight drops in his stomach, claws reaching in as they rip the scream from Alec’s chest. That name opens wounds that were sealed shut during Edom, and now he can feel the magic that hid them fading, crumbling under the demonic blood that courses through him, the pain of a thousand bricks to the glass of his once inactive heart.

Guards that hid far beyond the warehouse rush in, removing the young warlock as Valentine now stands over the greatest demon below royalty in Edom.

The name _Alexander_ repeats over and over in his head, poison to his veins as the world around him grows dark, blurs to the rhythm of clouds above them, violently roaring with thunder as his magic can’t control itself, adjusting sharply to the new volume of power he owns.

“That’s it,” he says as Alec finally crumbles to the floor in agony, still feeling the prints of Valentine’s fingers on his skin. “Be what you’re meant to be. Go back where you _belong.”_

Alec can’t hear him, only a white noise that makes breathing difficult, hands against the cold concrete that he can’t even feel. He feels alone, more than he ever has been.

And when his own conscious fades, swallowed by eerily hands that reach for him in the dark, pulling him under, he loses grip on reality as a whole. Alec fades away, and he’s replaced by the Alec the world knows, the Alec Valentine _needs._

One name sits on Alec's lips, gone with his last breath, hoping they'll somehow hear their name when he didn't even speak it.

_Silence._

It’s deafening, horrifyingly so for silence in the first place. But it’s the kind of silence that makes people feel ill, twists minds beyond breaking. Valentine feels himself weaken suddenly, confidence leaving him, vision more focused than blurred. Perhaps the excitement of finally being near his goal peaked his adrenaline.

A singular crow watches the commotion from a broken window, and does nothing to aid the silence that falls upon the room. Nothing moves, nothing makes a sound, at least not until Valentine does.

As Valentine goes to reach for the sword, a hand grabs his wrist, breaks his arm and twists him so that he’s forced to sink to one knee. 

Valentine’s scream is what causes the crow to fly.

Looking over his shoulder as he grunts out in pain, terrifying red eyes stare back at him, completely void of anything but hatred and _hunger._

 _"You did this to me,"_ his voice appears as the wolf mask fades to ash, revealing Alec’s face. 

He doesn't need a disguise anymore, he's truly what the mask told him he is -- _alone._

“I-- I’m not the man you should fear!” Valentine crumbles as he speaks, desperate, as if the menacing man he was five minutes ago no longer exists. “I have no control over you, but I’m aware of who might be!”

Alec is listening, or more accurately, the _Swordsman_ is listening. Valentine takes a deep breath, blinks a few times as the pain of his broken arm stings beyond recognition. He’s still holding him in that locked position, the burning of his injury no match to the blood inside Alec’s veins.

“Bane-- _Magnus Bane,”_ he starts, sounding rather panicked, pained. “He’s the strongest warlock I know, and if you truly want your memories back, he’ll be your best hope.”

_“You said you’d have them.”_

“I don’t!” He says, and Alec only frowns at the confusion that feeds back to him.

The canines that stare back at Valentine when Alec parts his lips are more frightening than he thought they’d be. 

 _“Your words are truth,”_ the demon speaks, voice deep with a growl not of this realm. _“But your sins are not.”_

Valentine thinks he’s won, but as the sword floats up beside Alec, he swallows with sudden dread that he’s terribly, terribly wrong.

And that’s when the lights go out.

 

_\- - - - -_

 

With the rain falling heavy, Isabelle hurries to the bar where Magnus asked her to visit. It’s off the beaten path, so it’s not too hard to find considering this bar is filed on the Clave’s system as a frequent Downworlder gathering place.

She sighs as the small bell on the door chimes, a welcoming sound compared to the rather drowsy and drab weather outside. Warm chatter fills the room, jazz playing from the jukebox in the corner, and a lady that catches the warrior’s eye behind the bar. 

Isabelle is here to meet Maia, Magnus having mentioned she’d have news for her about something important. He didn’t name what, but Isabelle is intelligent enough to understand sensitive information. Besides, Magnus seems to be trusting her with something he hasn’t directly told the Clave, and there must be reasons for that.

Just as she’s thinking about the task at hand, the bartender looks up, pauses drying the glass she’s holding and smiles her way. Isabelle concludes that it’s Maia-- if Magnus’ description holds truth.

_She’s gorgeous. I’m sure you’ll be able to see her in a crowd of people even if she isn’t standing behind the bar._

Isabelle smiles as she approaches the bar, watching Maia place the glass down and give her full attention. 

“You must be the _gorgeous Maia,”_ Isabelle teases, holding out her hand, Maia shaking her hand without a second to spare. “Magnus speaks so well of you.”

“And what is it you or Magnus that called me gorgeous?” Maia quips back, holding onto Isabelle’s hand for a little longer than she realises. 

When they both pull back, their smiles don’t leave. 

“Well, we all have our secrets,” says Isabelle, shrugging casually. “But I don’t see the harm in saying that you truthfully are, in fact, gorgeous.” 

Maia whistles, crossing her arms across the marble of the bar. Isabelle sounds every part as strong as she looks. “If you’re looking for cheaper drinks, I’m afraid flattery doesn’t work in this bar.”

Isabelle can hear the teasing tone in her voice, and the Shadowhunter dips her head as she chuckles. This is already going far smoother than Isabelle thought it would. 

“I’m on duty, unfortunately.” Rocking back and forth on her feet, Isabelle moves a block of her hair forward, eyes drifting over Maia’s face. “But can I perhaps shift that request to another time?”

“Drinks?” Maia questions, and Isabelle’s nervous smile answers without words. Taking another glass to clean, Maia drags out the silence until Isabelle shifts nervously. _She’s cute,_ Maia thinks. “I’m sure I can make time for a lady who compliments me in the first five seconds of meeting me.”

“Honesty is the best policy,” replies the Shadowhunter, sitting down on the bar stool, making herself comfortable. “Is that a yes, then?”

Maia is about to agree, a bubbly laugh escaping her, but there’s a small alarm coming from Isabelle’s phone. She reaches for it in her pocket, and frowns at the notification that greets her.

“A demon just appeared out of nowhere,” Isabelle seems to be scrolling on her phone, checking information. “That’s odd.”

“What class is it?” Maia tries to see the screen herself, but if she leans over too far she’ll end up knocking over glasses.

Isabelle looks to Maia then double checks her phone. “Greater demon by the looks of it.”

Maia knows it’s Alec. Magnus said to keep him on the low if something sparks his presence to appear on Shadowhunter systems tonight.

“Don’t,” Maia takes Isabelle’s hand, gently stopping her from calling out the Shadowhunters. “There’s-- something I need to speak to you about. About Magnus.”

Isabelle eyes her carefully, calling up the alarm as a false one so the Institute doesn’t kick into action. Maia sighs in relief, and as Isabelle puts her phone away, she’s frowning. “I hope you have a reason for possibly endangering the Institute.”

“Magnus sent you here for a reason.” As Maia gently leads her to the corner of the bar, away from other customers, she takes a deep breath. “I’m here to give you that information, and it’s about that demon you just saw.”

“So it _is_ a real threat?” Isabelle sounds even more aggravated now, but she’s still hoping Maia has a clear explanation.

“No.” She shakes her head. “He’s not.”

 _“He?_ You know him?” questions Isabelle, eyes widening a little.

“Yes, we do.” It’s obvious Maia means Magnus, but she clears it up nonetheless. “Magnus has been watching over him, in a sense. He wanted you to know before this sort of thing happened.”

Isabelle remains silent until she has another question to ask.

“Wait, what demon _is_ he? He’s a greater demon, so he must have a name.” That’s how it usually works, right? “He must have some importance.”

Maia didn’t want to be the one to explain this, since Magnus is more knowledgeable, but if Isabelle is going to leave without alarming the Clave of their secret deal, she’s going to have to be truthful.

“Remember the whole ordeal with the Clave and the Swordsman?” It’s clear with that who she’s going to mention. “Well, it’s him-- the _Swordsman.”_

 

\- - - - -

 

Countless books sit on his desk, Magnus taking notes of anything that looks remotely useful in terms of knowledge slightly relating to Alec. He also keeps looking at his phone, idly finding himself wondering towards it out of the corner of his eye.

He has faith, everyone does in something, but Magnus fears about how little Alec has. The words he spoke to him, about how he hopes the angels realise their mistake if he continues on this path, trying to become better even if he doesn’t realise he’s consciously doing it.

It makes Magnus smile at the possibilities. Luke will give Alec the mental support he needs of going through such a change, and he’ll be able to answer Alec’s most frightening questions. Or, he’ll try and answer what he can, leaving Alec to learn and figure out the rest.

But as Magnus looks back to the book in which Alec’s shadowy, ill figure is depicted on the pages, question marks and old warlock language giving nothing but blank clues, there’s fear deep down that this is all a trick.

The greatest trick of them all, perhaps.

Alec’s using humanity as bait, to allow Magnus to give him a second chance the angels didn’t want to give. It’s possible, for sure, but Magnus denies it.

He slams the book closed, takes a deep breath, pushes it to the side in favour of another tome.

Alec’s hellhound bounces up onto the desk, nose already searching through pages, inquisitive with the various smells of times long gone.

Magnus smiles at her, thinking about how long they’ve known each other, and what they may have done in Edom. Did they explore together? Wait out the various and continuous storms they have down there? Either way, she’s a rather kind soul, not like most other hellhounds that would’ve already ripped these precious books of history to shreds.

As he offers his hand, Magnus watches as the hellhound flinches, glancing from his hand to Magnus’ face. Her tail has dropped, and her eyes seem very faint without Alec’s presence around. She stays there until curiosity takes over, taking that one step forward to sniff Magnus’ hand.

Once a few seconds pass, she ventures forward even more, sniffing the palm of his hand as her tail raises once more. She seems more calm now, especially when Magnus slowly moves his thumb across her cheek, feeling the soft fur he expected to be rough and ashy from her time in Edom.

Alec must have taken care of her, trained her from a young age, otherwise she’d be acting how Magnus remembers hellhounds from last time. 

Opening his other palm, he summons a very small, silent blue flame. The hellhound immediately turns to the magic, padding lightly over to the other palm, eyes becoming brighter as the flame illuminates her face.

She barks, and Magnus watches how she nudges towards the flame, as if it’s familiar.

He’s about to toss the flame to his other hand in order to play with her, but the hellhound’s ears perk up at something else. Her head turns quick enough to make Magnus jump, and the air becomes eerily silent. 

There’s a shift in Magnus’ wards, and he feels it, dreads how sick to the stomach it makes him feel. That’s not the magic he’s used to, and the weight it carries with them is something Magnus doesn’t want in his home.

A name appears in his thoughts, and he tries his best to fight against it, not wanting to believe the very real truth he’s already felt in the warning of his wards.

Alec’s hellhound darts behind Magnus, finding a small hole between stacks of books to hide in, whimpers sounding as she desperately digs to find a deeper hiding place. That’s not typical behaviour of a hellhound, to be scared of something and not stand up and fight to protect their territory. Granted, this isn’t her territory, but they’re always up to fight anything that makes them feel threatened.

For her to bolt the other way isn’t a good sign, for Magnus or his rapidly painful thought.

A bang sounds outside his study, and Magnus holds a hand behind his back, commanding flames with the slight curl of his index finger. If it’s Alec, he needs to assess what’s going on before he does anything he’ll regret, or anything that’ll send them back twenty steps.

Opening his door, the heat from the apartment rushes through the gap, sweat clinging to Magnus’ skin. It feels as if flames are swallowing his apartment whole, invisible to him, but clear in the eyes of the creator.

Stepping out, he’s close to falling to his knees at the gravity of the room, the _pressure_ of the magic in the walls of the apartment. It takes a few more steps into the main room of the apartment to spot him.

And Magnus’ heart locks itself away again.

Alec is standing there, sword in hand, red dripping from the tip of the blade with hunger in his eyes he’s never seen before. His face is void of emotion, silent as he stares at Magnus, giving time for the reality they’re in to sink into Magnus’ stubborn heart.

This isn’t real. This is a nightmare, a _living_ nightmare.

He no longer wears the tie or mask he left with, black suit shirt crumpled, suit jacket ripped at the collar from someone tugging at it. In all of the time Magnus has known Alec, this here, this _image_ he can see without warning, it’s the most demon he’s ever been.

And when Alec opens his mouth to speak, Magnus wishes he’d never made the deal.

 _“You have my memories,”_ the demon speaks, even his voice being void of emotion, monotone. _“Give them to me.”_

“Alec?” Magnus replies, hoping to gain at least a small sign of the man he once knew merely hours ago, but nothing budges. There’s not even a flinch.

It seems he’s not here to waste time, desperate for the memories he once owned that were ripped away from him against his will. Magnus feels his mouth go dry as Alec takes one step forward, then another, the world blurring around them as Alec’s magic twists and twirls towards him.

He reaches a hand out, magic spreading and bleeding from the black veins on his hand, Magnus blocking the tendrils with a quick shield of magic. Every time their magic makes contact, both of their magic shatters like glass, cancelling each other out.

This makes Alec furious, almost more feral than he looks as he swings his arm back and _launches_ the sword towards Magnus.

With little time to react to the speed, it clips Magnus’ shirt, ripping a shred of fabric that’s pinned to the wall as the sword makes impact. He’s breathing heavy as he turns back to Alec, having followed to sword’s trajectory.

Where he’s now face to face with Alec-- and the demon does nothing.

Looking down, the hand that’s reaching for him is flinching, like his nervous system becomes confused, all the parts that make his body tick failing to process movement. He looks strangled for a moment, as if what he’s doing is something so foreign to his nature.

But it shouldn’t be.

“Alec,” Magnus tries again, seeing the flinch of his body, and again when Magnus reaches for his hand. 

Old fear sets in, causing the demon to step back, and the distance between them allows room to breathe, the demon sighing in relief. He can breathe again, no longer strangled by Magnus’ aura, the growing voices he couldn’t understand becoming quiet.

 _“Give them to me,”_ he repeats once more, opening one of his palms to command the sword back to his hand. It struggles against the concrete, crumbling the wall as it whips past Magnus one more time, caught flawlessly in the waiting hand of the demon’s. _“He said you’d have them.”_

“Who did?” Magnus hopes that making conversation will give him time to figure this out, to try and knock whatever evil out of him that’s crawled its way in.

 _“A man no longer here,”_ Alec says, and this is the first time he’s shown emotion in his voice. It sounds victorious, and Magnus feels sick to his stomach with the indications of that. _“But you’re stronger than him.”_

“I’m stronger than most people,” Magnus argues, taking a step towards the demon. “And I also know you’re stronger than this, Alec.”

At that, the demon frowns, clicks his tongue. _“Alec? That’s not my real name.”_

“It’s the name you gave me, is it not?” He’s trying to jog his memory, the only one that he has. “You said you had no reason to lie about that, about your name.”

 _“You and many others gave me another name, not my past. My past is Alec,”_ he points to the ground. _“This is the present, and I do not own that name anymore.”_

“But you do,” Magnus takes another step, and to his shock, Alec takes one back. “It’s the only thing you have from your past, and you’re going to hold onto it, aren’t you?”

Grunting, the demon grits his teeth before speaking. _“It’ll be accompanied by the memories you’ll give me.”_

“He was lying to you, I don’t have them.” Magnus speaks calmly, but as the demon smirks, his words don’t seem real at all.

Alec would be able to tell if he was lying. If _Valentine_ was lying.

Magnus’ heart seemingly stops for a moment, throat rough as if he’s swallowed rocks. This can’t be true, because that’d mean so many things, so many possibilities that _frighten_ Magnus.

“I _don’t_ have them, Alec.” So he’ll stand his ground, free Alec from the darkness he’s trapped in, and then he’ll figure this out. Or at least, he hopes. “Am I lying to you?”

 _“No, you’re not.”_ He looks at Magnus, _really_ looks at him until he’s stepping forward. _“But perhaps you don’t remember either.”_

As Magnus watches Alec walk closer, he brings a hand forward, magic beaming from his palm that makes Alec halt his steps. He’s not going to hurt him, but he needs to find out why Alec is this way, why he’s drowning in darkness he didn’t have to begin with.

 _“Give them to me,”_ Alec demands, trying to take another step while Magnus’ magic grips him still. _“They belong to me.”_

If anything, his voice is deeper now, and as each second ticks by, Alec becomes more and more jaded, lost to the void. Magnus needs to do something, quickly, before whatever Valentine did removes Magnus’ faith for good.

“Alec, this isn’t you,” there’s clear worry in his voice, but he needs to stay strong. “You can’t let this side of you win, you said you were a monster but you’re _not._ I know you don’t want to be.”

And the demon laughs, gesturing to himself. _“Is this not that? A monster?”_

Magnus smiles, knowing he’s caught him. “You _do_ remember, then”

Alec halts, the sword dead weight in his hand. It’s like something jolts Alec’s body, someone else knocking on the door of his mind.

 _“Your words don’t make sense to me, Bane,”_ And as he says his last name, Alec frowns, looks to the sword he holds. 

“You remember our time at the ball, don’t you? Do you remember what I called you? What mask you wore?” Bit by bit, Magnus will get through. Even if Alec still looks beyond lost, beyond the man he was when he made him promise to come back.

Hesitation, gears turning, and then he’s speaking.

 _“We… we went to get information. My mask was a wolf, and you,”_ he looks up to Magnus, expression becoming blank, _“you called me a mystery.”_

Magnus nods. “Exactly, Alec. I don’t know who you are, and you don’t know who I am. All we know is where we come from. I swore to myself long ago that I’d help as many people as I can, and you’re one of those people.”

 _“But why?”_ Alec’s voice is still sharp, still deep, but there’s an echo to his voice now that sounds familiar.

“Because you don’t want this to happen, do you?” As Magnus says that, Alec’s expression drops, almost becoming denial.

 _“It’s what I am,”_ he denies, gripping the hilt of the sword tighter. _“I was just holding back, thinking that I could hide it. Valentine proved me wrong.”_

At that, Magnus looks to his neck, focusing on the shape that sits beneath the black veins, spreading out from that central zone. The demon blood that was being collected, it was Valentine all along. 

Now, Magnus knows what he needs to do. He needs to remove the nightmares, neutralise the blood and let Alec’s body repair whatever damage the overload of demonic blood has done to  him. But to do that, he needs to get closer, and every time he steps closer, Alec moves back, afraid of the magic that surrounds Magnus.

He needs to make him angry.

“You’re just going to give up? Make him win?”

Alec eyes him, squints slightly at Magnus’ change in tone.

_“He’s nothing. He didn’t win nor lose.”_

“But you’re standing here, doing exactly what he asked you to do, I’m guessing? Or, you’re doing exactly what he hoped you’d do, to go for me, the only one that can stop him.” Magnus slowly commands the threads of magic inside his soul, allowing them to travel down the veins in his arms, spreading from the core inside his chest, making his skin feel cold as it starts to build towards his hands.

 _“You’re the only one who can stop me,”_ Alec replies, lifting his head up a little, smile returning as the ill inside him takes hold again. _“I’ll take what’s mine, and then I won’t have to see you ever again.”_

“I’m not going to give you them, Alec.”

Something in the air snaps. It feels as if something snaps inside Magnus’ chest, too.

 _“Why?!”_ he challenges, taking more steps forward, but still not close enough. 

“Because you don’t deserve them.” It hurts for Magnus to say these things, but he must. “They’re lost for a reason, and you can’t obtain them back because of greed.”

That seems to do it, because Alec grinds his teeth, heaves his breaths and takes those few steps forward with the sword. Horror settles inside Magnus’ heart, taken back by how quickly Alec loses hope, how much his power can make him weak but strong at the same time.

Magnus delays for a single second, and the soul sword is about to drive home when canines take hold of it.

It’s moved away from Magnus’ chest as Alec’s hellhound pulls the blade away from his hand, enlarged to her true form. Alec doesn’t have time to even make another move, as Magnus’ hands are suddenly by his neck, the cold, soothing blue of his magic reaching in.

Magnus’ eyes close, searching with his magic, chasing down the demonic blood that doesn’t belong inside Alec’s body. Seconds tick by slowly, and when Magnus opens his eyes, Alec is staring back at him, lips parted to breathe quicker than normal, frozen.

He looks relieved. The potent red of his eyes calming, splitting like marble until a breeze of blue fades over the surface, nulling the demonic powers completely. Magnus takes a deep breath himself, feeling the tether pull the end of his magic, knowing that if he pushes any more, he’ll empty his own tank for an hour or two.

But this is Alec, a soul he believes in, a soul he wants to help.

Magnus ignores the boundary, pushes his hands closer without thinking, making contact with one side of Alec’s neck. His magic jumps at the contact, rushing inside Alec’s body as if it's a relief for Magnus himself, searching and healing for the wounds inside. Alec’s eyes slowly close, but his breath spares few words before he’s pushed to slumber from exhaustion and Magnus’ magic.

 _“I’m sorry,”_ whispers Alec, almost inaudible if Magnus wasn’t so close, holding into him. It’s not the demonic voice he heard earlier, and Magnus feels the world bloom a little brighter again.

He sounds destroyed, Magnus’ eyes welling up as Alec goes limp, his body collapsing, but Magnus manages to catch him. It’s only then does Magnus realise he’s making skin contact, thumb moving across the left side of his neck. There’s a bump, but as Magnus looks, there’s nothing in place to give such a feeling.

Magnus guides his magic to return through that skin contact, and the feedback he receives makes Magnus fall to the floor himself, cradling Alec in his arms. It’s true, that Alec’s cure is Magnus, that Edom’s flames don’t hurt him, but there’s another factor that makes Magnus even more confused.

With everything that happened with Valentine, how Magnus is supposed to have Alec’s memories, does this mean that Magnus knew Alec? Is that why he’s immune to Alec’s flames? 

Was he the one to condemn him? Did he use the angels to cover it up?

Shaking those thoughts from his mind, he focuses on Alec’s face, the peace present calming Magnus’ already multiplying thoughts. 

_Who are you, Alec?_

And then his mind grows silent as he moves his hand away, feeling as if he shouldn’t if Alec is afraid of touch. He might not even remember the past few hours if he’s been so twisted by forces that aren’t himself. 

Alec’s hellhound watches from the side, the sword having been dropped from her jaw. She must’ve sensed Alec’s voice when it broke through, that there was hope. Or, they have a link Magnus doesn’t understand yet, and she only protected Alec’s wishes.

Either way, Magnus gives her a smile before turning back to Alec, his breathing having returned to normal. He’s sleeping, probably deep, and Magnus allows some of his magic to reach back in, to guard his dreams from the galloping hooves of nightmares. 

Perhaps that’s why he doesn’t sleep, afraid of what true darkness will bring. He can only imagine what suffering plagues his mind when he closes his eyes, allowing demons he can’t keep at bay to swim freely and poison him further.

Alec was slowly becoming human, and Valentine stole that away from him. It’s going to plant seeds of more fear, regret and guilt when he wakes up, and Magnus is going to be there to bring light to each one and help him.

That can only happen if Alec accepts him, though. He might not even give himself a chance if he remembers what he’s done. As of right now, Magnus doesn’t give one thought about Valentine, what his fate might be, because there’s a greater one in his arms, one he can’t fully understand-- and it’s driving him mad.

Picking him up, Magnus carries him to his bedroom, placing him down onto his back, knowing that Alec might be knocked out for hours, if not days. There’s some magic that hasn’t returned to Magnus, as if Alec is holding onto it to heal himself.

Magnus sits down on the edge of the bed, moving his hand closer to hover over where he feels the magic is concentrated in Alec’s chest. His fingertips try to pull the magic to the surface of his skin like a magnet, and as it reaches towards Magnus’ hovering fingertips, he loses his breath at what he feels.

Pressing his hand to Alec’s chest, it glows, as if Magnus is linking with Alec himself. The rhythmic thump of Alec’s heart isn’t working by normal functions, but from magic that flickers inside.

Alec’s heart is surrounded by Magnus’ magic, warm and soothing, but it’s not from today. It’s _older,_ a part of his magic Magnus didn’t even know he’d lost. It’s clinging to Alec, refusing to budge, like it’s _part_ of him.

And then another question sits on his tongue, one he’s been wanting to ask for past, present and future.

_Who was I to you?_

 

\- - - - -

_Wolves have safety in numbers, but that can't be said for unanswered questions._

_Even in slumber, they haunt the confused, the worried, the hopeful._

_What does one do with so much weight?_

_They ignore, or they conquer. A matter of when, not how._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> looks like they're gonna need a long talk, huh


	7. Vultures

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i'd like it if you read what I have to say, and why this chapter is so delayed. but, if you don't really care, here are the tw for this chapter: violence, self hatred.
> 
> but yeah, hey! it's been a while. life has hit me hard, I'm going through family loss, and a lot of the topics in this fic are now even more difficult to write than they were before. it's helping to write this to let it all out, but at the same time, please understand that it's difficult still, and it's barely been three months since my life will never be normal again.
> 
> i'm sorry for taking so long, but as i've said before, i never release anything until it's ready, and thank you to everyone on twitter and my beta, wolf, for understanding that i need time, and saying they'd wait for this story no matter if it took a year.
> 
> but here it is. it may be a mess, but i'm happy with where it's at, and it's an important chapter to help boot things along, yknow? it was never meant to be this long, but things happen. hope ya'll enjoy it either way.
> 
> important changes: this is the only fic i'll focus on for a while except my collab fic, Avian duet. Maia and Isabelle now have a much bigger role than they already did, and it'll probably be a longer fic than planned now I'm focusing on just this fic. I don't know if I'll write anything again once this is finished.
> 
> once again, i'm sorry. tag is #odsfic as usual if any of you enjoy saying what you think about this chap. or feel free to dm me, my new @ is @oceantlde. two songs have been added to the playlist too.
> 
> hope ya'll are well. hope it's a chapter you can enjoy. teasers of the next chapter at the end.

_ No matter how much you can block the sky, _

_ Vultures will always find a way to you, _

_ And that fear of when is what brings fear to me most. _

 

_ \- - - - - _

 

Waiting becomes painful when it’s hopeless. 

That’s all Magnus has been doing, waiting, calculating. He’s been sitting by the bed as Alec sleeps, writing down notes in a small journal he’s created that’ll suffice as a knowledge bank for now. With nothing official in the books he currently owns, Magnus decides that making one of his own will help him better understand the lost soul in front of him.

He’s been so torn with the thoughts in his head that he can’t look at Alec directly without simmering guilt. It feels as if he’s trying to run away from something bigger, something that he should clearly know.

Whatever magic holds Alec’s heart, it’s from a different time, a different history. Magnus can connect to that small bundle of magic inside Alec’s chest, but it’s not cooperating with Alec in such a deep slumber. Perhaps it’s protecting him, or protecting Magnus from a truth that’d hurt him more than anything else.

Either way, his notes become questions more than actual information. It’s helping him relieve the weight, but as Magnus continues, question after question, he becomes frustrated.

There’s just so much going on, so much he wants to say but they haven’t had time. Magnus can’t stand another minute thinking about how  _ guilty  _ Alec is going to feel when he wakes up, because the words he said days ago still ring in his head.

He really believes he’s a monster, that whatever he did deserved such a fall, a punishment so severe that Alec doesn’t even know what home means anymore. They don’t want him to  _ have _ a home, a friend, a happy emotion that’ll somehow heal what’s broken inside. 

Magnus didn’t expect this, and he even told Luke that. It wasn’t meant to be this way, where he questions the deal, questions who Alec is, and now he's even asking himself if he meant anything to Alec in his past life.

There’s no denying that there’s history, long gone, but it’s there. Somewhere in Alec’s mind, there’s clues to solve whatever questions Magnus has about him, and he’s also aware of the boundaries firmly set in stone that can only open with time and truth. He has his own boundaries, to protect what’s left of his broken heart, but Magnus isn’t going to let that stop him from opening up, to help Alec see that the entire world isn’t there to curse him back down.

And  _ hell,  _ even if it was, and Magnus was the only one who didn’t feel that way, Magnus would still try his best to make Alec feel that bit more human before time eventually runs out. Frankly, Magnus doesn’t know how much time he has, or if he has any at all.

Alec is going to be the one to give him that, because Magnus can’t force him to believe in happiness if there’s none left for him to see. There probably hasn’t been a sign of it for Alec, and even then he can’t understand what happiness means. Down there, in Edom, where everything suffers from either greed or pain, there’s no room for small smiles in the hopes of another sunrise because there isn’t one.

Here, there’s days and nights, friends and advice. Alec has a chance, and Magnus doubts he’ll even believe in that. If Edom did it right, if it truly moulded him into a warrior bent on revenge, then he’ll try and find his way back down there, even if Magnus tells him he won’t allow it.

If Magnus is the only one able to send him back, Alec will find his way back if the angels truly destroyed every last bit of who he was.

And Magnus, for once, hopes that he’s wrong.

Standing up, Magnus closes his journal, placing it on the bedside table. Alec still doesn’t stir, and Magnus aches to reach out and touch. He’s aware that Alec’s curse doesn’t affect him, and Magnus concludes it’s because he too, has magic of Edom origin. Perhaps the curse doesn’t try to punish what’s already been touched by Edom itself, and therefore, Magnus may be the  _ only  _ person he can touch.

Other Downworlders might follow the same path, but Magnus doesn’t want to risk such a thing, and somewhere deep down Alec might think that too.

Alec always flinches when he’s about to touch Magnus, and the hurt in his eyes, the regret he feels as if he  _ shouldn’t  _ even think about it. Alec can’t have a basic form of comfort, and it’s probably rotting him from the inside, slowly losing thought of ever having it.

As Alec’s hellhound nudges her way into the room through the door, Magnus is struck with another thought, and he mourns because of it.

Alec can’t touch, can’t feel, and this hellhound was the only thing keeping him human. It’s the thing that kept him from truly slipping into the void, and Magnus’ original suspicions about Alec and his strange behaviour compared to other demons-- it all makes sense now. She was the anchor when Alec almost drowned, and he’s been walking on thin ice ever since, seconds from slipping.

She’s miserable, ears down, tail between her legs. Magnus kneels down, offering out his hand in which she walks closer, allowing Magnus to pick her up. Magnus needs to think of a name for her, but it’s Alec’s dog, and after everything he’s just thought about, it’s Alec’s right to name her.

Magnus wonders if there’s a reason he hasn’t named her, and as he looks back to Alec, he wonders just how many stories he has hidden away for no reason other than fear itself. 

"He'll be okay," whispers Magnus, moving his thumb across her cheek, "I'm going to help him, I promise."

Usually, talking to a dog wouldn't do much except for the short commands it's been taught, but this little fighter actually turns to him. She's looking at him, paws to Magnus' chest, almost as if she wants to believe.

_ What did Alec say to you down there? _

Not wanting to look into her melahonic eyes anymore, Magnus hugs her closer for a few seconds, the pup emitting so much warmth but not nearly enough as before.

When Magnus turns back to Alec, the pup reaches for him, and Magnus can't say no. Perhaps being next to his companion will help him heal. He decides to place her down, the pup nudging Alec's arm in order to sleep under it.

They must be closer than Magnus originally thought, and somehow Alec was a saviour to her as well. He'll have to ask Alec about their origin, how in the twisted knife of Edom they found friendship in a baron wasteland.

Perhaps it's a reflection of who Alec is, who he wants to be, that even something as simple as making friends is rooted deep in what ought to be a body for war.

Millions of voices whisper inside Magnus' head, a storm brewing that's going to rip through what he thought were strong, time built walls. But then again, that might not happen, and the whole event of Alec being here will be another feather to any other bird, a memory lost to time.

Leaving the room with a heavy head, Magnus makes his way to the bathroom, a sickly tingle threading itself through the apartment. It's eerily silent, silent enough to shake even the most stubborn human to feel a little fear. Magnus isn't stubborn, he's smart, and the sleeping presence of Alec isn't welcome in this world. 

If the nightmares can't haunt Alec, maybe in turn they haunt the world around him instead. It's all theory, head scratching thoughts that stick with Magnus even while he showers. And then he's bruised by the fact Alec can't feel the cold, many of which complain about or hurry to be over, but Alec will never feel the relief of a cold drink during a hot day.

He's haunted by the domain that made him, constantly churning his memories that he  _ doesn't belong here, but if you're going to be there, you'll be reminded of home. _

Those words echo with an actual voice, one that's twisted and makes Magnus pause. It's like he's being watched, fingers on his scalp that read what he's thinking, but they're his own.

Staring at his hands, Magnus clenches them into fists, magic bursting at the seams he holds tight from years and years of control.

There's this undeniable shake, a racing thought that becomes a monster inside his thoughts. 

"Catarina," he voices, reaching for his phone situated not far from his dedicated fruit basket. He felt too hot in that room to keep things mundane when showering, snapping his fingers to hurry the process so he could leave.

He wouldn't be surprised if Alec's nightmares are starting to manifest.

_ "Both you and Lucian are acting weird. What's going on?"  _ Nothing gets past Catarina as usual. She's a doctor for a reason, even without magic.

Magnus just didn't want to have to deal with this right now.

"I'll explain in due time, dear. Please don't worry about that."

_ "Of course I am! Yourself and Lucian are my closest friends, for more years than any of us can count."  _ She sighs, hand to her forehead.  _ "I just got home from a long shift, so I'll let you explain another time to save my already existing headache." _

"Cat… I had no idea it'd turn out this way. I can't say anything else other than to trust me."

Silence stretches between them, and Catarina only sighs again. There's a jingle Magnus hears, her house keys being placed down. It's a clear sign of how much magic she's used today to save people.

_ "Even though you've got yourself into trouble through our years, I still trust that you won't make one that'll cost you more than it's worth." _

"Honestly?" Magnus looks back to the door. "I'm not sure if it is."

_ "God, Magnus. What have you done?"  _

Choosing his next words carefully, Magnus is about to reply when a bang sounds from the door Alec has been sleeping in.

He pauses, listening for another noise, but instead of a noise, Magnus is met with the door swinging open, hellhound running out in what seems to be fright.

Alec is gripping his shirt over his stomach, grunting in pain as he tries to support himself on the door frame. He looks torn, eyes feeling as if they scrape against sandpaper when he looks towards Magnus.

"I need to go." Magnus hesitates, but it's firm when he speaks it. There's only a muffled protest from Catarina until all he can hear is the grunt from between Alec's clenched teeth.

He doesn't know what to say, but he knows what's  _ happened.  _

Magnus' tongue is twisted, mouth dry as the Alec he saw a few days ago appears through small cracks. All of his confidence, his smirks and witty remarks seemingly non existent. He's the bare bones of what Edom wanted; emotionless, broken and beaten to the point where he can only  _ just  _ stand up.

But he’s not meant to be like  _ this,  _ unbalanced, scratching invisible itches that never seem to stop. Alec walked into a thorn bush thinking his thick skin would protect him, but he’s never been more human, especially when Valentine twisted a rusted bolt so deep inside Alec’s system that he feels alien without it. It’s as if being prompted to remember is distasteful, a safety net Edom put in place so their precious soldier is forever theirs.

Valentine was more of a monster than Alec bargained for, and he came out of it worse than him. Magic from his loss of control still lingers, whispering in dark corners and waiting for Alec's inevitable doubts to knock the door wide open again. And it's growing, simmering in his gut like leeches. Alec groans again, focus dwindling to nothing but a cascade of colours and shapes.

Magnus initially thought the evil was gone, but as always, it never truly fades. It’s even more evident in how Alec is heaving, as if he can’t breathe, clawing at his shirt like something is there, physically trying to claw its way in.

Shadows emerge inside his head, the voices that have been leading him this entire time, pulling and ripping at his soul to try and bring him back to what he was-- what he was  _ before  _ Magnus,  _ before  _ the deal. It’s like a war of two sides, good and evil, but there’s no guess as to which side is which when they’re so desperately intertwined. 

Madness, borderline insanity. That’s how it feels.

Suddenly aware of the situation, Magnus moves quickly, leaving his previous thoughts behind and focusing on the now.

Alec almost collapses to his knees just as Magnus reaches him, and like clockwork, Magnus' magic forms from the palms of his hands, rolling like waves across a beach as it curls around his fingers. It sinks into the fabric of Alec’s shirt, a single second of relief that bites back quicker than Magnus can anticipate right now.

_ "Fuck,"  _ Alec moans,  _ whines  _ at the heat and sickening itch that’s spreading over his skin like a secret he can’t keep _ ,  _ "It hurts,  _ please.” _ Even his voice sounds broken, croaking from how dry his mouth feels.

Magnus, at a loss of what to say, allows his magic to venture forth without lock and key, keeping his hands in contact with Alec, even if he’s shaking from such close, physical contact. His fears burn brighter now that he feels as if he  _ is _ on fire.

Their magic has the same origin, but the person they are changes it entirely. Magnus' magic is a reflection of who he is, and Alec's magic is currently confused as to  _ what  _ he is. So as the gentle but potent blue searches deep in Alec once again, he’s suddenly aware of how much he’s having to push, to  _ fight  _ against multiple demons Alec has been carrying since his rebirth. 

Hours ago, Alec felt nothing but hunger, and now he's burning up, beyond a comprehensible thought other than to hope it fades quickly. Alec hasn’t felt this level of agony since his beginning, or his end that was  _ meant  _ to be a new beginning.

Either way, he’s losing focus on himself, his powers, his life. The room burns with the pressure of his magic, bulbs flickering to life with the thick presence of such volatile energy. 

Alec didn't expect help, to not feel a hand that’s trying to guide him. This didn’t happen last time, not that he can remember, so it’s confusing him even more. It’s even more jarring that it’s  _ Magnus  _ helping him, having expected the warlock to let him fall after what he’s done. Not after what he did-- or  _ almost  _ did.

"I can't--" starts Alec, chest heaving as he feels his body fighting Magnus' magic, "I can't breathe. I can't  _ breathe." _

He can't recover here, so Magnus moves closer, "You need to get to the couch, okay?" he says, trying to keep his voice calm, to be reassuring when Alec probably feels like hell right now. "Can you walk?"

After a few grunts to test his systems, teeth grinding from the effort of just  _ trying  _ to move, Alec nods, understanding him through the constant white noise. Pushing himself up, the pressure in his lungs doubles, and Alec begins to stumble again.

But Magnus is there, a hand to his chest, one on his side to keep him from tumbling. There's a lot of weight depending on him, but it's nothing Magnus can't handle. It's only now Magnus can feel the heat, almost burning him through the shirt Alec has on, and he's  _ sweating. _

That shouldn't be possible, not from how Alec's body has an average temperature to match Edom's.

"You're burning up," Magnus says that to himself, as if confirming the impossible.

"I feel like it-- I feel like I'm on fire." Alec releases another noise of discomfort, almost vomiting from the noise that escapes his throat.

"I'm going to help you, okay? Keep breathing steadily, in and out." Magnus' magic is still trying to breach the wall of fire that flickers so freely inside Alec, and he can't focus entirely on it when he's also supporting most of Alec's uncomfortable weight.

"I need," Alec whispers, losing his breath for a moment as he takes a step forward, then another.  _ "I need you,"  _ desperate, almost distant.  _ "Please." _

He looks pained to admit it, closing his eyes and allowing Magnus to guide him until he's falling back onto Magnus' couch.

"It burns," cries Alec, opening his eyes to Magnus' face, recognising the worry that's stricken his features.  _ "It hurts so much." _

Alec caves in on himself as another wave hits, and the heat from the demonic blood shakes him with blurred memories of what he did to Magnus hours before, what he  _ almost _ did. It's fighting back against what Magnus healed, wanting to feel that power again, but Alec is rejecting it. He’s beyond exhausted, awoken from a peaceful slumber he didn't know he could have, reeling from the aftermath of such a traumatic and twisting ordeal.

He doesn't want to feel how Valentine made him feel, not again, not ever. Instead, Alec wants to feel how  _ Magnus  _ makes him feel; like there's a chance for him.

And he's screwing it all up.

Magnus runs to his apothecary to grab ingredients, but he's really not sure how to treat a greater demon that's rejecting itself from healing. He removed what Valentine did, but some lingering nightmares remain, and his body wants to multiply that very small dot of power it can feel to survive.

But Alec, exhausted mentally as well as physically, can't accept it, and his body is at war rejecting it  _ and  _ fighting  _ for _ it. In the midst of if, Alec's normal functions are breaking down rapidly, causing his breathing to deteriorate, his temperature to spike and his nervous system to flinch over trying to run from  _ himself. _

Magnus hears his cry of agony from the other room, and deciding to go with his gut, grabs two bottles of regular healing ingredients to work with.

On his way into the room, Alec is fighting with a button on his shirt, trying to breathe. He's suffocating in the heat, and he's trying to help himself by ripping his shirt in two. The sound of fabric ripping, Alec’s closed eyes, his grit teeth; he’s a man burning alive without any flames.

Arriving in front of him, Magnus doesn't think twice about it, placing the bottles beside Alec so he has two hands free. 

The glamour falls from Magnus' eyes, anticipating the amount of magic he’s going to use, focusing his entire bank of magic into the palms of his hand, spread equally to both. Blue turns red, illuminating them both in that very light as the bulbs start to flicker on and then off again.

Magnus pushes his hands, fingers poised in arches that claw towards Alec's chest. His magic sinks into the demon's chest like water to sponge, and Alec has to battle another wave of pain before he can meet some sort of saviour.

He's trying to balance it out, giving Alec a boost of magic in his system to coexist with his demonic blood. That, in turn, causes Alec's eyes to burn brighter and his eyesight blurs to nothing but red.

It feels like Valentine all over again, and panic sets in.

Alec grips Magnus' wrists, his fight or flight taking an obvious course. For a moment, Magnus sees the Alec that threatened him hours ago, but it soon fades to fear when Alec realises he's touching skin.

He flinches away, lungs almost crumbling from how quickly he breathes out.  _ "Fuck,  _ fuck--" Alec is on the verge of breaking down. "I'm sorry, I'm so  _ sorry--"  _ It sounds as if he’s eating glass, barely making words, but Magnus hears him loud and clear. He feels he always will.

_ "Alec,  _ breathe," he replies, trying to calm him down, but the squirm of his body against the couch indicates he's far from that. "I need you to listen to me."

Alec still isn't responding, hands gripping his skin near where Magnus is still pouring his magic into him.

"I--."

"I know, I know," Magnus is trying to be calm, but he's finding it hard when Alec is crumbling before him, almost on the verge of  _ crying.  _ "You need to stay calm. I'm not going to let you fall again, do you hear me?"

It's clear he can, but he's too focused on trying to decide which side to let win so this pain will  _ stop. _

And then cold rushes through him, and it's such a relief that his eyes begin to fill with moisture, fingertips twitching from pent up adrenaline, and his lungs feel sore.

Alec closes his eyes, feels Magnus' magic soothing his soul, reaching in and finding the irritating parasite of Valentine's plan. It breaks apart under Magnus' command, but as Alec expects the magic to leave, it remains.

When he opens his eyes, he meets brown ones, looking down to his chest with an expression Alec can't read.

Magnus closes his hands into fists, shakes them a little in what seems to be frustration, and then steps back.

But he's still looking at him, or more precisely, his torso.

A few strands of his shirt still wrapped around his arms, skin red in places from where his own fingers scratched to relieve the itch. Sweat sticks to his skin, a thin layer that shines blue as Magnus' magic sparks as it retreats. 

But despite all that, and the fact that Alec is insanely fit, Magnus is currently interested in the glamour he sees healing in parts it started to break away. He swears he can see the edge of a scar before it fades to perfect, smooth skin again.

Alec almost fell apart, perhaps literally.

They're both silent, but Magnus isn't done. Alec's chest still heaves from how much he's exhausted himself from something he hasn't experienced before.

Magnus, suddenly awake with the reality, almost walks away to try and contain his sadness.

Leaning down, he takes the two bottles, offering them to Alec. "Take these, they'll help you recover." 

Alec takes one look at the bottles and looks away, trying to avoid Magnus' gaze.

"No."

"Alec--"

"I said  _ no,"  _ his voice booms, and Alec coughs not even a second after. Face twitching in discomfort, Alec tries to sit up, but his body doesn't have any steam left. "I'll be fine."

"You're clearly not." Magnus can feel his magic settling back into his body, and it's giving a clear message back to him, an answer as to what happened. "You asked for my help, so I'm helping."

Alec looks at him from where his head lays back, only now noticing his face void of makeup and the gown he wears. "You shouldn't have."

"I can make my own decisions," snaps Magnus, deciding to place the bottle beside Alec again. He's not going to argue, not when he's stable again. "And so can you."

Parting his lips to reply, Alec is about to say something, but the sharp, echoing pain in his chest stops him. A few seconds pass and it's gone again, along with what he wanted to say.

"I need to stop Valentine." He tries to move, but he can't. Even moving his fingers requires effort.

"You need to rest." Magnus leaves his side, sitting beside him but still giving more than enough space between them.

"No, I had him, I almost had him. I have quick healing for a reason." He blatantly ignores that his body  _ isn't  _ healing.

"You need time to  _ heal." _

_ "I am  _ healed," Alec replies, quick to the punch. "This is as healed as I'll ever be."

Magnus stands in disbelief, shaking his head. "I don't believe that."

"You seem to believe in a lot of things I don't." Turning his head to him, Alec reaches into his pocket for his phone, only to find it's been turned to ash.

Maybe it's better Alec only knows of the location. Magnus can't go if he doesn't know where he's going. But then he's reminded of the deal, the mark, how it'll help locate him.

“I’ll rest when this is done.”

"You can't think like this, you're barely breathing." Magnus searches his face only to find nothing in his expression.

"Does it matter?" Alec argues once more, and it probably won't be the last.

Hesitating, Magnus stands up, turning away before he has a chance to bite his tongue. "It does to me."

Alec only laughs, "You're too forgiving. I almost--  _ fuck." _

It's a reality Alec can't speak of, because he can't lie. Alec doesn't want that to happen again, because in truth, he doesn't want any harm to come to Magnus. That very thought makes him loosen the rope he's tied around his heart.

"I almost hurt you."

"I've lived many years, perhaps longer than you. I have my own history, my own battles, my own wishes and dreams that change the course of my life." Magnus returns to Alec with a glass of water. His magic hasn't rebooted just yet so he can't summon one. "You didn't do anything the world hasn't already thrown at me. And that's not to brag, either. It's so you see that me helping you isn't some unequal balance-- I  _ want  _ to help you."

He doesn't say anything back, simply staring at the glass before a weak, trembling hand reaches for it. Alec's grip is weak, and Magnus feels it in the way the glass almost slips between them. 

With a firm hold on the glass, Magnus helps lead it to Alec's lips, and with his head feeling as if it weighs more than humanly possible, he grunts with the strain of lifting it from the spine of the chair.

"I'm fine," he snarls, trying to pull the glass from Magnus' grip. "I don't need you to help me."

"I'd say the truth is quite the opposite," Alec finally takes the glass from Magnus' hands. There's no arguing, and frankly, Magnus just wants Alec to rest.

He doesn't say anything else until Magnus starts to move away, and Alec's words halt him.

"Why are you helping me?" There's no sign of defeat as he speaks, it's more denial and fascination than anything else.

Problem is, Magnus isn't sure how to answer such a question.

"It's okay to let others help you." As Alec puts the glass down, Magnus continues speaking. "Because sometimes even the strongest aren't strong enough to fight alone."

"But some of us have been made to," argues Alec, teeth grit as he tries to sit up. Magnus doesn't move to help him, knowing he'll be met with resistance. "I don't have that option."

"The angels gave you that option, they give all of us options, but we choose if or not to follow them." Magnus is aware those words won't help, but they're words be wants to speak.

Alec rises from the chair, frown cemented on his face.

"You sound like it's so easy, like you don't have these--  _ voices _ in your head telling you right from wrong. I may seem fine, but I can feel my sanity drain every single day. For as long as I live, the angels will laugh at me, they'll think they've judged me fairly no matter how I feel, and neither will they hear my argument."

They're dripping with venom, Alec's words, but Magnus doesn't let them sicken him. Alec is tired, angry, guilt coursing through him to the point where it creates silence.

Alec realises what he's said slowly, blinking and taking a step back. His lips part, shake and mumble until the silence snaps.

Magnus' phone is ringing, and Alec takes a step back, falling back to the couch, head in his hands.

With magic, Magnus summons the phone through the air, landing gently in his hand. He expected it to be Catarina, but Isabelle's name is there instead.

Worry sets in, and even more so when Isabelle speaks frantically.

_ "Magnus, are you alright? The Clave have just arrested Valentine. There's no sign of Alec here." _

_ Alec?  _ How does she know about him?

_ "Maia told me about what you're doing, and I don't agree, but Valentine is finally in custody. Apparently he couldn't speak a word of english, kept mumbling something about a demon, so I'm guessing that's your guy." _

Magnus looks over his shoulder to Alec, but he's not where he was sat a few seconds ago. Alec is stood by him, fear on his face, listening to the voice that comes through Magnus' phone.

"Isabelle, what else do you know?"

_ "They spoke about the scene, how it was all red and there were scorch marks everywhere. There was… no one left, Magnus. Valentine was barely alive when the Clave sent out soldiers to inspect the place. Maia said to give it time and then report it to them. So I did, and apparently, your whole plan worked." _

Alec's shoulders crumble, and he whispers his defeat. Chants of  _ no no no no  _ breaking through his lips as he turns around and walks away. Valentine will reveal him, they'll know it's him because of the trace of power he's left behind.

"I need to fix this," Alec says, fixing his shirt, hands shaking. "This is my mess to clean up."

_ "Is that him?" _ Isabelle asks, Magnus mumbling a simple  _ yes  _ in reply.  _ "They've got Valentine sedated while they transport him to Idris, and if your guy goes in, he'll end up meeting a lot of people that don't care if he's their hero or not." _

Magnus knows he's heard that, so he does nothing but look at Alec, seeing him go through the options he's got inside his head.

"I'll get him." Alec takes a deep breath, hands raised as red magic starts to form through the pores of his skin. "I'll make sure he never speaks of you."

"Excuse me, Isabelle." Magnus hurries, putting the phone down, taking that large step to take hold of Alec's arm. "He's done, Alec. He's got what he deserves."

"I'm not finished with him, Magnus. You have to let me do this." Not looking at him as he speaks, Alec closes his eyes, feeling his magic build more with Magnus' contact. "He turned me into the monster I was made to be, even after I tried so hard to be someone else. You have to let me see an end to this, one where I know he'll truly pay for what he's done to me, to your family," and now he looks to Magnus, "and to you."

Unsure, Magnus closes his eyes, taking a deep breath. Alec is in control now, he won't do what Valentine turned him into. But there's still that risk.

But Magnus should know better than to trust a demon. After all, that's what Alec is, not what he  _ was. _

He feels Alec's clothes turn to ash, wisps of black and red left behind. Alec has gone to find Valentine on his own, to haunt him until he's made peace with his own demons, or for Alec to give him even more.

Alec's voice lingers behind, a secret only Magnus hears.

_ "I'll come back." _

 

\- - - - -

 

For Valentine, it's dark and cold. There's nothing but the gentle sway of the car he's in as they transport him back to the institute. 

That is until the lights switch on, bright and overwhelming.

And then it grows dark again, quickly until there's red burning in the background, a deep and hollow dread sticking to his unconscious bones like tar.

He should be asleep, he shouldn't feel so alive while dreaming.

"You didn't let me finish," a voice echoes, causing Valentine to turn around, searching for a voice that he once thought he'd broken to something else. "That's very rude, even for you."

The warehouse he once called his sickly home feels a lot less comfortable. It was once his kingdom, and now it feels like a prison.

And then Valentine sees him, emerging from black and red smoke, eyes forming first and the rest following. He's a completely different sight to what he was mere minutes ago.

"I've never had someone break me like that before," Alec begins, hands in the pockets of his suit. "Quite impressive for a man who doesn't know right from wrong."

"Doesn't that make it easier? No limits?" Valentine squirms against the pillar, trying to move away from Alec, his red eyes shining brighter the closer they approach.

"Not exactly," Alec halts his steps, kneels down to inspect the very place he lost control, ash sticking to his fingertips. "Limits are important. We know how hard to push until something will fling back, to understand when something will  _ break." _

Alec still feels the heat from his transition, smiles as he feels the lingering power still here, as if calling Alec back to finish the job. This place Alec stitched together, it's a mirror of the real world.

"Perhaps I understand you more than you think," Valentine says, flinching when Alec looks away from the floor and towards him instead.

"No," Alec laughs, "you don't know anything about me, and it wasn't you who broke me. You just simply pushed me beyond that limit, and it broke  _ you  _ instead."

Gesturing to his broken arm, Valentine growls his words back to him. "You're nothing but scum, thinking you're better than all of us just because the angels gave you a second chance. Your story is all  _ bullshit,  _ they  _ wanted  _ to do this to you."

"I don't have a story, in case you've forgotten." Alec isn't moving from where he's kneeling, and it makes Valentine uneasy.

"You do, but it's no more than a sob story to make the weak pity you. In fact, I bet every Downworlder will say they  _ understand  _ you if they get the chance to talk to you."

"You're awfully cocky for a man out of his depth," Alec says, calm and collected. He wears a slight frown, along with a growing, twisted smirk on his lips.

"And you're a coward for bringing me into this  _ dream land,  _ too scared to face me in the real world knowing I broke you into the pitiful creature you are." If anything, Alec only feeds off his distaste, the anger.

Because Alec's smirk drops, straightening himself and looking down on him once again. Such a small man for words so big.

"And yet I can hear your heart run wild, your blood pressure spike to the point I can feel my own tongue waiting to taste it. But I don't like the taste of salt, of such vile things that make me feel sick to my stomach," Alec waves his hand, shows how it can morph to claws similar to one of a werewolf. "You hate those of demonic blood so much, you've become what you hate. I find that rather hilarious, don't you think?"

Looking at him, the pulse of his broken arm constantly there, Valentine doesn't know what he's trying to get at, but as Alec steps forward once -- he flinches.

And then it all makes sense.

"See, I understand you more than you know, because while I'm in your head, I can see  _ everything,"  _ Leaning down, Alec tilts his head like a puppy would, only a small distance away from his face. "Your desires, your hopes, your  _ fears." _

"I have  _ no fears,"  _ Valentine spits in his face, causing Alec to close his eyes.

Alec wipes the spit from his cheek with his hand, distaste clear in his expression. He looks to Valentine, face growing dark and the red of those evil eyes more potent.

Valentine chokes when Alec's hand grips his neck, pushing him up the pillar with no effort, bringing him up so that Valentine's feet don't even touch the ground.

"Every man has fear, Valentine, as denial is our armour, and we  _ love  _ to deny what makes us feel weak," Alec squeezes a little harder, Valentine's eyes going wide. "And you hate feeling helpless, don't you?"

But this is too easy, and Alec wants to play. He loosens his grip, allowing him pity, allowing him to speak.

Valentine takes one deep breath. "Unlucky that your curse isn't working," there's a smile to match Alec's own, but as Alec doesn't seem phased by his words, Valentine grows nervous.

"Oh, it does," Slowly pulling his hand back, Valentine expects to hit the ground, but he doesn't. He's suspended by Alec's magic alone. "I may be reckless, but I'm not a fool."

He's seething with hatred, and it only fuels Alec's blood with more and more power.

"Why waste time?" shouts Valentine, frustrated he can't seem to budge against the magic holding him.

"I have plenty," Alec moves his hand back to Valentine's neck, the drowning heat from his skin heavy as it sticks to him. "And you don't have any left."

Beside him, the soul sword he was damned with floats idly, tip of the blade towards Valentine's chest. It's eerily quiet except for the odd whistle of outside disturbance. Valentine knows he's done, but that doesn't stop him from trying to work his way out of it.

"Tell me something, Swordsman." There's nothing but an amused expression from Alec after that, "Why stay here? Why do their job for them when they've done nothing for you? If anything, I'm not the one you should be hoping to find."

"Like I said to you before," the sword moves closer, metal shining against the moonlight, "I only accept one deal at a time, and I like to keep a good record. My mission is you, and I intend to complete it."

"Shame you won't," Valentine brags, smiling now. "You're too  _ soft  _ to keep that end of the deal, huh? You still have  _ weakness  _ inside of you, what the angels obviously missed when they threw you away."

A deep rumble grows in the clouds outside, and Alec drops Valentine to the floor. His blood boils from such a bold statement, and he's left clenching his fists.

"Just like I thought," he says, a victory smile curving his lips. "Pathetic."

Another rumble grows, but it's closer, coming from Alec's direction. Valentine thinks it's the demon, but another pair of red eyes shine in the dark, a sharp collection of teeth pairing with them.

Alec's hellhound steps out from the dark, smoke rolling off her fur in waves as she moves in her true size. She reaches up to Alec's waist, ears pointed sharp and tail swinging behind her.

"You really think so low of me, don't you?" Alec questions with a sly tone, allowing his companion to stand next to him as Valentine practically turns to stone.

"How is  _ that  _ here..." He visibly flinches away as the hellhound takes a step closer, able to smell his fear. "That's not possible "

"Anything is possible, Valentine," Alec looks to the hound, smiles, and then turns back to Valentine with clear disgust. "Unfortunately, some of us aren't so lucky, and that includes  _ you." _

"You're wrong. I  _ always  _ win, one way or another, even if it's not me." Valentine spits on the floor. "Order will find its way to you."

"I don't think so, because I'm going to hand you over to the Clave with only your desperate hope of finding peace that you'll never find. I admit, they're just as bad as you, but you'll serve your time." Taking the coin from his pocket, his flicks it once, catching it once it falls. "And when your time is up here, I'll make sure it continues."

"What?" There's not much bark left in his voice.

Alec can only chuckle, "You know what hellhounds do, right?" At the mention, Alec's companion starts circling Valentine, and the weight of gravity triples with the pressure of Alec's magic. "They hunt souls in packs, leaving you nowhere to hide. I only have to say one word when you fall to Edom, and I'll make sure I'm there."

Leaning down to his level, Alec grins as Valentine tries to look for the canine, but it's vanished.

"Do you know what that word is?" Questions Alec, the roll of his tongue dragging his words out. "Say it, go on."

Valentine doesn't budge, welding his lips shit.

"I know you know it, come on. Entertain me one last time before I have the joy of never seeing you again." 

The maddened warrior looks on the verge of crying, the weight of Alec's presence too much to bare any longer.

"What word?" Valentine looks confused, grits his teeth as he watches Alec's two fingers move once, then twice.

Alec made him say that. He made Valentine  _ ask. _

_ "Fetch,"  _ Alec whispers it, and Valentine's heart stops, jumps  _ back  _ into action when the hound appears through Alec's chest, jaw wide as red magic forms the illusion.

Valentine curls up defensively as the jump scare wins out. Alec's hellhound appears from behind the pillar, as if she actually jumped through. She lingers, until a command in Alec's head results in her trotting away.

Alec has broken him, shaken the language of speech from his memory.

"The Clave might annoy you for the rest of your miserable life," Alec stands back up, putting the coin back into his pocket, "but I'll always be there, in the back of your mind, a ghost you can't shake."

Valentine finally looks at him when Alec reaches his hand down towards him, fingertips glowing red. He intends to finish this now, to tie up loose ends.

"They may be a nuisance, but I'll be your  _ worst nightmare." _

As red magic feeds into Valentine, Alec doesn't flinch when Valentine reaches up to grab at his suit sleeve with the arm that isn't broken.

Alec curses his memories, removing Magnus' name, giving a clear reminder that Alec will always be there if he goes to speak it. That way, Magnus will be safe from the Clave, at least until they find some lame excuse to bring him in.

When Alec feels he's done, he pulls his hand back. Valentine's hands shake, and he looks lost.

And Alec suddenly steps back, guilt already settling in faster than he'd like. The voices prey on him one by one, and he’s never felt more conflicted by his choices.

_ He’ll remember you, for sure. _

_ He’ll remember you when he’s gone, the hounds will make sure of that. _

Alec turns away, swallows what feels like a rock in his throat and closes his eyes.

_ End the dream. End the dream. _

Laughs taunt him, mocking him with a childish voice that repeat his own words back to him. His stomach drops when the dream collapses, and he’s temporarily unconscious until he’s back on real solid ground. 

He doesn’t know where he’s going to end up, but he’s turned up  _ somewhere.  _ As the red walls and decor from multiple different cultures piece back together in front of him, it seems he travelled back to where he feels home.

Or, at least the  _ spark  _ of home. A temporary belonging he’ll allow himself for now.

Exhaustion takes him, and he collapses.

 

_ \- - - - - _

 

“Is it done?” His voice brings Alec back completely, opening his eyes to a warlock who could snap his spine with the snap of his fingers. There's a comfortable feeling of fabric under him, cushions.

"How long was I out?"

"A day," answers Magnus, inspecting him from head to toe. His suit is back.

Alec brought himself back to Magnus. He said he would, said it to the warlock’s face, but he wasn’t even  _ thinking  _ of where to manifest himself again. 

He came back as if it’s normal. Clockwork.

The words only sink in when Magnus steps closer, raising one of his hands, reaching for Alec’s face, as if he has something there. Once again, Alec flinches away from his touch, but Magnus doesn’t seem hurt at all by it. He expected it.

“It’s done,” Alec finally replies, taking a deep breath that causes his shoulders to rise. “It’s done. He won’t speak of your name or mine.”

And like that, a battle is won. 

Instead of celebrations and hopeful smiles for a less bleak future, Magnus is frozen when Alec stands from the chair, conflicted as to what to say. He can’t just say  _ thank you,  _ or that  _ you’ve done us a great service  _ because this means something different entirely for them.

The end. A conclusion to the deal. Finalised, debts paid and favours that were owed thoroughly traded in equal.

From how Alec stiffens his posture, only to let his body sag with exhaustion a second later when he deems it useless to act tough, it seems they’re both not ready for that conversation. Magnus, on one hand, wants to send him back now so that his heart doesn’t win out.

Magnus still has one debt to pay. His promise.

Alec shakes his head, presses his fingertips into his palms, worries his lip between his teeth. If this really is the last time he’ll be here, then he wants to be truthful. He doesn’t know how far that truth will stretch, but he can say one thing he’s sure of, what he’s been thinking since Magnus healed him.

"He almost made me lose the one thing I have."

Magnus can't bare how distant he sounds, how afraid of the future he is. "What's that?"

Alec hesitates, parts his lips to speak, truth laying on his tongue. But he can't say it, not until his own grueling reminder of the events comes back, the way he felt the sword empowered with such anger running through his veins.

"You," breaks through the silence, Magnus meeting Alec's eyes as he finally brings his gaze back up. "I almost lost you."

_ God, don’t say this now, Alec. _

He doesn't know what to say, and Magnus has no idea what those words mean to Alec. It could be a good thing or bad, and from how Alec can't keep eye contact, it doesn't make it any easier to guess.

Magnus' silence makes Alec nervous, shifting on the spot, restless.

Alec's hands fold through his hair. He's fighting with himself, at war with the voices in his head. How is he meant to convey feelings he doesn’t know?

Biting the rusty bullet, Alec speaks up, keeping his gaze towards the only man who can truly see him even when he’s trying to hide.

"You're the only one that talks to me, that somehow  _ believes  _ in me to be a better person when I'm clearly not."

Magnus watches him turn, the demon starting to pace around. "Alec, you don't have to say anything."

The demon looks back to him, then the chair, shaking his head when he turns away again. "I literally just made a man cry from the fear of me, I'm going to haunt him for the rest of his life even though he deserves it. I lost control, and I'll probably do so again. I can't understand you."

"Understand what?" 

"Why you see so much in me," Alec replies, faint, as if he doesn't want Magnus to hear it, but he can't lie. "You see so much others don't.  _ Shit--  _ I haven't seen anyone  _ but  _ you look at me like that." Alec scratches the side of his neck, remembering the masquerade, how they pretended to  _ be  _ something they weren't, all for the sake of information. “Seems stupid to say when there’s nothing down  _ there  _ to look at me, and you’re the only one powerful enough to pull me out of there.”

But what are they now? Business partners? Strangers that somehow know too much?

"I look at you like what?" He's asking question after question, but this is the most they've talked since that day they rang Valentine.

Alec pauses in the middle of the room. His subconscious brings a hand to his chest, squeezing the shirt over the placement of his heart.

"As if I mean something to you." Looking down to the floor, Alec notices he's clenching his shirt over his heart, and he starts to focus on it. 

There's a rhythm, slow and faint, but there's something soothing about hearing it, as if he never expected to.

"You do," Magnus replies, firm. He starts walking, meeting a startled Alec as he turns back around. "Or, you  _ was  _ something to me."

Alec grows cold, but he doesn’t know it. "What?" Alec questions, not being able to look away now those words have nailed an anchor to his soul.

"There's a lot of questions I have, Alec, and I'm in no mental shape to answer them. I don't think you are, either, because I can see you fighting with yourself over this, like you're afraid what you'll say is wrong, that one thing will make me send you back."

Alec frowns, "And you promised you would."

"I did," Magnus confirms, reluctantly. "And I'm a man of my word, but don't think I'll send you back for trying to explain how you feel, that somehow this is bad for you, or for  _ me.  _ I'll send you back when you're ready to go back, and right now, you're not, are you?"

“The deal is done,” argues Alec.

“And just because it’s done doesn’t mean we are.”

“There’s nothing here.” Those words aren't true, and Alec can only speak the truth. He's lying to  _ himself. _

“I think we owe each other answers, at least to talk.” Magnus hates the grim look Alec gives him then.

Sighing, the demon almost turns away by habit. “Talk? About what?”

“About this,” Magnus gestures between them with his hand. “You can’t lie to me, Alec. I know you feel something, that what we are isn’t just strangers with a business deal. There are loose ends, and I’m not going to spend the rest of my life regretting letting you go if I can  _ help  _ you.”

Taking a deep breath, Alec finally sees sense in Magnus' words, clenching his jaw as he swallows.

“So let me repeat myself-- you’re not ready to go back, are you?”

“And you’re not ready to send me back.” Alec notices Magnus rubbing his thumb against his fingertips. A nervous habit. “Am I right in saying that?”

“Answer my question.”

Alec hesitates, clenches his fist.  _ Damn you, Magnus. Damn you. _

"No. I feel like there's something I'm missing." Finally releasing the grip on his shirt, he lets his arm rest by his side. "It doesn't feel like I can go back, as if I have unfinished business."

"Unanswered questions," prompts Magnus, to which Alec smiles a small smile.

"Yeah," he sighs, "You can say that." There's a beat of silence, a delicate moment. "Mostly about you."

"I could say the same for you," Magnus has his own smile now, and Alec can't look away. "You really are an enigma."

"Please stop using that word." His complaint doesn't get far, because Magnus is already turning away. "It's like you don't want to tell me the truth of what you think about me."

"And yet when have you sensed a lie from me?" Magnus turns back, picking up his wine glass that he was drinking during Alec’s absence. "We all have our secrets, Alec."

He says nothing more as he walks away, leaving Alec to dwell on his words more than he'd like to. Perhaps Magnus does have secrets that are older than most people alive on this earth, but his biggest one right now is the weight on his very own heart and soul.

Alec can see it, the doubts and demons he carries on his shoulder. They don't change. They don't weigh any more or any less to other days, nor do they change appearance into something else. He keeps them locked away, glamoured without magic from his own friends and family.

"Do you want to know what I think about you?" Alec says from a distance, raising his voice just so Magnus can hear. They're the only ones here, anyway..

"Depends on what it is," Magnus jokes, placing his wine glass down onto the kitchen side. Even if he sounds like he's not bothered by the question, he  _ wants  _ to know. "Is it going to flatter me or insult me?"

Alec clicks his tongue. "I'm not good with any of that, I only know… certain things, unfortunately."

Magnus easily forgets, even though he shouldn't, that Alec is a demon that gathers  _ sins.  _ Lust, greed, desire-- he'd know how to snake his way into Magnus' heart easily if he wanted to. Of course, Magnus has been alive long enough to resist such charms, but he hasn't seen the extent of Alec's magic besides aggression. 

Looking at him from where he stands, Magnus can't see anything but a man who doesn't know what world he's standing in.

"Then enlighten me."

Alec holds a face that looks like he regrets asking, but takes his time. Magnus gives him that time.

"That you'd go through pain so someone else doesn't have to." Alec starts making his way over, each step slow and patient. "You'd carry all the burden, the blisters on your skin, the broken bones-- you'd do it all for the people you love."

Magnus doesn't realise Alec is merely steps away when he finishes speaking, but he's so locked on those red eyes that he can't see anything else.

"How have you come to that conclusion?" Crossing his arms, Magnus becomes defensive. Alec doesn't understand body posture, but he can hear Magnus' heart double.

"I can see the truth in people. My eyes may be red but I can see the world in just as much colour as you can, perhaps even more." Alec looks away, and Magnus feels as if he can breathe again. "But I can't see why you said  _ that." _

"What?"

"That you were something to me." He reaches out for a flower that sits in a single pot, hesitant. Alec doesn't intend to touch it. "And I can't help but feel that being with you is the wrong path."

Alec barely touches the leaf, already curling away from the reach of his fingertip. When he makes contact, it sets alight, burning away to ash. Magnus watches, moisture dwelling in his eyes.

"If I was what you think, then the world didn't want it that way." Placing his hand back by his side, Alec looks to Magnus, breaking the inklings of hope he had inside.

"I didn't know demons followed the rules," Magnus attempts to lighten the sudden drop in atmosphere, lungs pulsing just for one second. He almost hiccups. "Surely you'd follow your desires."

Alec's silent, eerily so, waiting for the moment Magnus shifts slightly before speaking. "I don't have desires, just urges. Even then, they're small, insignificant compared to you."

"Are you saying I'm one of them?"

"A desire?" the demon inquires.

"Yes," replies Magnus, not wasting time.

Licking his bottom lip, Alec dips his head, searching for the answer somewhere in the marble pattern of the tiled floors. "No, you're a wish."

"And what wish?"

"A friend." Alec smiles as he says that, but it fades, almost too quickly so it was never a smile at all, just a hope of one. "A friend I can't have."

"Who said you can't?" Magnus pushes himself from where he was leaning against the side, taking one step closer as Alec takes one back.

"My past, my fears, the truth that I can't help but speak." As he talks, there's an underlying shake, nerves in his voice. "I can't bring you down with me when you mean so much to these people."

"I can make my own decisions, I can weigh out the consequences without your help." Magnus brings his hands together. "People know about you now, trusted people, people who have demonic blood in their veins that see hope in you."

"They haven't even met me." Alec is shocked, to say the least. "But then again, you  _ are  _ a leader, and people seek you for guidance." Maia's words, again.

"But they are also people with their own life, their own opinions and dreams like any other. They trust my word, yes, but they are equally capable of making decisions on their own." Magnus doesn't know if his words will sit, but Alec seems to be listening anyway.

"What did they say about me?" is the first thing that escapes his lips, and Alec's expression shifts to regret. It must've been the question he didn't want to ask, but did anyway.

"That's a question for them to answer, not me." Magnus tries to keep his voice calm, even though his doesn't feel one bit of that status.

"Are you going to tell more people?"

Magnus hesitates. "When they're ready, yes."

And now it's Alec's turn to hesitate, lost for words. "Why?"

Magnus takes a step forward, and this time, Alec doesn't step back, fixed solely on Magnus' face.

They're one step away, and yet they feel miles apart.

"The angels lost hope in all of us, Alec. Just because they did doesn't mean no one else can. They're not our rulers, and they never have been." Magnus spreads his hands, magic pinging from one palm to the other, weaving something. "All we have is each other, and that is what's important, more than money and power. We follow the rules because we want to, not because we need to."

Alec watches Magnus' magic create before his very eyes, the blue such a cold contrast compared to Alec's own. The item becomes larger, detailed with gold he can't make out yet.

And then the magic stops, and Magnus is handing it to him.

A black blanket, finished at the edges with golden details, gentle patterns that are easy to follow with one trace of Alec's finger.

"We choose to be good people," he smiles at Alec, gesturing the blanket towards him when Alec doesn't move. "We  _ want  _ to be good people."

Alec breathes in, loud enough for Magnus to hear as he looks down to the blanket. His hands feel like rocks, heavy enough to withstand his demonic strength.

Magnus waits. He's patient, using that immortal time he has to allow Alec to make his  _ choice. _

Lifting one hand, Alec reaches for the blanket, hesitant, fingertips curling in towards his own palm just as he's about to touch it. Fear resides under his skin, an immortal’s worth of time blending and mixing to make him feel sick.

"What  _ is  _ this?" He asks, part worried and part interested.

"A gift." Magnus replies, looking down to the blanket.

_ "Gift?" _

"An object exchanged from one person to another in good faith. Either out of the good of their heart, or through payment." And with that, Alec looks to Magnus as if he's figured it out. Magnus shakes his head, shutting down that idea before Alec can firmly grip hold of it. "If it's by payment, then it's not out of the good of their heart. A gift should be a gift, nothing more."

"I've done nothing to warrant it," Alec replies, stepping away. "I've done nothing to accept this like you're asking me to."

"I'm giving it to you," Magnus almost feels hurt, and then he does when Alec's face crumbles.

"I can't, Magnus." He brings a hand up to his mouth, wiping his lips like he can feel salt on them. "I can't."

"You can," Magnus tries again, but he doesn't move. "Why don't you believe that?"

Alec doesn't want to say it, hates that he'll have to. It's for the good of them both. "You have too much faith in me when no one else does." 

"That's not true. I know Maia and Lucian do--"

_ "No,  _ no." Alec steps forward, looking down to the blanket in hesitation before looking back to Magnus. "I can't let you."

Magnus feels confused. "To not have faith in you?"

"To trust me, to be around me, to hope that I'll have something better. I can't let you-- I can't let you see something in me." 

"Why?"

"Because I won't  _ be here, _ Magnus."

And like that, Alec answers Magnus' question for him. The promise still stands, and Alec is making sure it does. He can't allow people to trust him because the risk of enemies using that against him is too high.

Valentine isn't the only soul out there to be punished, and Alec can hear them, his own demons dragging him towards the door so he can do his duty.

"I can't pretend I'm normal, that I can be here, with you and pretend I’m not a demon sent from hell. I had a second chance, but it’s not the good kind, it’s a  _ punishment.  _ I’m afraid of it punishing you, too. I'm lost, I'm  _ hungry  _ and I don't want to hurt you again." Alec clenches his fists, looking away as Magnus' face turns to stone, protecting himself from Alec's words.

"After everything I said to you?" Is all Magnus can reply, a twisting feeling in his stomach.

"We made a deal," Placing a hand against his own neck, Alec feels for the burn of the mark. "I've done my part, now you do yours."

Magnus shakes his head, recalling how he summoned him. "I said I'd give you freedom."

"This isn't freedom," Alec's words shake how his hands do, stepping towards Magnus. He goes to touch his cheek, lingering. He doesn't know that the curse doesn't work on Magnus, not yet.  _ "This _ is torture."

Now Magnus can see it, the want in his eyes, the want for something more than business and hollowed secrets of the night. But he can't have anything more than that, he's afraid to have anything accept what he knows it true, what he knows is  _ real. _

His fear, Alec's fear-- that's  _ real. _

"I can't do this. I can't ruin your life for some silly hope of something more. I'm too broken to fix, and I know you know that."

Magnus closes his eyes, wants to say  _ he'll try, he'll try to fix him.  _ But in truth, he knows Alec is right.  _ He can only speak truth, no lies. _

"If I go back, it's not freedom, but it's better than knowing every second I could lose control, that I could say something to hurt you."

"We can work on that, as a team, like we've already been doing." It's all he can contribute, knowing Alec has his mind set on going back.

And to be honest, Magnus is, too.

If Alec isn't comfortable here, then his freedom is what Alec thinks is freedom. But to say being around Magnus is torture, it hurts more than his own words can create. 

Alec wants to be around Magnus, to accept the chance he's given him, but he knows it's futile, a desire too expensive neither of them can afford.

Maybe in another lifetime. Just not this one.

"I would like something, though." Alec says, sounding relieved suddenly.

"And what's that?" It's strictly saddening how much hope Magnus gains from those few words.

"I'd like a few days. Here."

Confusion rocks Magnus, causing him to take a step back. "Stop playing games, you just said you don't want to be here. How can you say that to me and then ask for more?" 

"I don't mean  _ here,  _ I mean in this realm. I'd like to-- make a few memories, no matter how small." Alec sighs, his words contradicting themselves. "That way I'll have something to hold when I go back."

He wants to say something else, to say that the only thing he holds onto is the man standing in front of him. The idle hope, the shining star that thinks they're nothing but dull in their own fear of something more.

"I can give you that. Consider it as an alteration to our deal." Magnus doesn't know what to say anymore, bound by grief and sadness that what he hoped for is nothing but an idle dream now.

Alec nods, hovers for a second before moving. Magnus' sudden words halt him, turning Alec back around to look at him.

"Stay," asks Magnus, not pleading, but almost. "I want to know you're going to be okay after everything that's happened today."

Alec watches his lips. He's telling the most painful truth imaginable. 

"Alright," Alec swallows the rock in his throat, decision harder than he thought it would be. "I'll stay."

"Guest room is down the hall to your left. The one with the blue door." Magnus places the blanket on the kitchen side, deciding not to look at him.

Silence wraps around their throats. Magnus can't even hear Alec's footsteps as he walks away.

The turn of a handle, the creak of old, unused hinges, and the thump of a door closing is all that sings back to Magnus in the cold night.

It's over, but Magnus feels as if it’s only the beginning. 

  
  
\- - - - -

 

_If only I could say to you what you mean to me,_

_But there's vultures watching, waiting._

_They want us to fall for them to pick apart,_

_But I won't allow us to lose."_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> next chapter: maia and isabelle meet again, and alec and magnus uncover some secrets. glamours too.
> 
> this isn't the last time you'll see Alec be evil.
> 
> see you then, some time in the future.


	8. The Dawn

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i think with every chapter i'm giving a small piece of myself away. this fic is becoming more personal than intended. 
> 
> thank you, so so much, for all of your comments last chapter. it really means the world, and i really appreciate all your support. i probably sound like a broken record at this point but really, it does. 
> 
> trigger warnings // self hatred, family grief, scar mention
> 
> as usual, two songs have been added to the playlist. hope you enjoy this 18k monster.
> 
> big thanks to jay. couldnt do this without you.
> 
> #odsfic

_ "Warm hands, soft lips, the cold of the morning, _

_ The present fears the past, and the past mourns for the future. _

_ There's no real way to knowing what the next day will bring." _

 

\- - - - -

 

There's fog clinging to the city, but it's rather warming. A bitter cold still brings itself with it, but the morning sun makes everywhere seem mystical, ripped straight from a fairytale.

Condensation sticks to windows, morning commuters order coffee from their favourite restaurant chains, and the train that's usually always delayed-- is  _ delayed. _

It's the most mundane morning Isabelle has come across in a while. There's silence, a gentle backing track of birds as some start to migrate, winter rolling in. The time of the holidays is almost here, and even though there's not much to celebrate for her, it's a time of reflection and being with family, friends and people she admires.

Choosing to feel the frost of the fog and the gentle orange gloom of the sun so early in the morning, Isabelle decides to leave the Institute to clear her head. She's wrapped a blue scarf around her neck, thick coat over her shoulders and her hair up in a strict pony. 

With Valentine behind bars and his trial coming up, she's disheartened by the fact that this isn't the end of it. There'll be another Valentine, or something much worse. This world will always have evil in it, and Isabelle is one of the many to stand in the way of it.

Being a leader does have its perks, but sometimes the noise of it becomes so loud she doesn't feel as if she can hear at all. Which is why she's heading out with a place in mind, a quiet oasis she was met with before, and a smile that brought with it a genuine kindness.

A sign swings in the morning air, the carving  _ HUNTERS MOON  _ painted in curvature with golden paint. The wolf howls upwards, a simple decoration to the mundane but a hint to the hidden world.

Taking a deep breath, she steps in, the window of the door feeling cold, bell chiming above her head.

Maia is there, pen in her hand, taking stock and oblivious to the person that's just walked in. Well, she expects it to be someone else.

"Stuart, I gave you the day off. You didn't need to come and help me with stock." Maia clicks her pen, sighing as she puts it down.

Isabelle stays silent, a growing smile on her face as Maia looks up, realising that it's not Stuart, but--

"Isabelle?" Maia seems shocked, momentarily in stasis before smiling back. "Bit early for you, isn't it? No shadows about until nightfall."

Laughing at her joke, Isabelle unwraps the scarf from around her neck, walking over to the bar as Maia picks up a glass for her. "Unfortunately my job is a 24/7 shift. Every day of the year."

"Sounds rough," replies Maia, setting down Isabelle's glass and pouring some juice. "No alcohol until four, though. Establishment rules."

"That's fine by me. I'm here to just… breathe. The Institute is rather hectic at the moment, and you wouldn't think it would be with everything happening." Isabelle gives thanks as Maia pushes the glass towards her.

"It doesn't sound like that place ever gets quiet, to be honest." Maia collects her own glass, pouring the same juice she did for Isabelle. "But I do appreciate the company so early in the morning, it can get rather dull around here. You know, with all the  _ men.  _ I gave them all the day off, sort of like a Downworlder holiday now the demon that hates us is behind bars."

Isabelle watches her face. There's no relief, not even when she swallows the refreshing beverage. Her hair is also tied up, wild strands pointing out here and there, and she's wearing a simple t-shirt with a graphic on it. It's cold in here, and even though it's obvious it is, Maia doesn't seem to be all that affected by it.

"Of course. I was just going to go for a walk, but then I remembered this place and how warm the atmosphere was. We didn't exactly meet the right way with Magnus' plan, but I was hoping it'd be nice if we sort of-- started again?" Nervously tapping her glass, Isabelle notices how Maia never takes her eyes away from her, completely focused on what she has to say.

It's not uncomfortable staring, it's almost flattering.

"I guess I have to apologise for that. I agreed to help Magnus, and in the process I almost got you fired." Maia's eyes widen a few seconds after that.  "Did they actually say anything?"

Isabelle shrugs, taking another sip of her orange juice before speaking. "No, I had to call it in eventually. I said it was some fault with my phone and I couldn't call it in straight away. I have control over the Institute so if I said it was a false alarm, the Institute wouldn't have done anything or heard about it. If they believe it or not, it seems to be going well so far."

"Rebellious Shadowhunters," Maia chuckles behind her glass. "Never thought I'd see the day."

"Seems biased to say this, but we're not all bad." Isabelle looks down at the wooden bar, one finger moving along the grain. "It took time for Magnus to trust me, but I'm hoping to make a real change, one that  _ will  _ actually change things."

"For the better? Or for benefit?" 

"Both, for everyone." Raising her focus back to Maia, she's taking a sip of her drink, but still looking at her through the bottom of the glass.

It's silent for a moment, Maia placing her glass down with a  _ thunk  _ that echoes along the wood. It's empty now, and she seems to be debating about another drink.

"I wish there were more people like you, Isabelle." That comes as a shock to both of them. "You had every confidence and belief to walk into my bar in hope I wouldn't kick you out. Even when I called you Stuart you didn't say anything, you just waited. If that was anyone else they'd want a free beer or arrest me."

Smiling, Isabelle has to put her head down to try and hide it. She doesn't know why. "I have a lot of faith in people. Probably too much."

"You're a leader," Maia chuckles, shaking her head. "It's natural for you to do that, to believe in people you meet, even if you've had the worst first impression." 

"Did I give you a bad first impression?"

Smiling, Maia shakes her head again. "Not at all, considering you said I was gorgeous."

"I did do that, didn't I?" Laughing, Isabelle's smile grows without rule.

"So yeah, I think your first impression went rather well," Maia takes Isabelle's now empty glass. "Another? Or does duty call?"

Isabelle bites her lip in thought, tilting her head to the side, nails dancing on the wooden side. She  _ could  _ go back and start paperwork, or she  _ could _ stay and talk to Maia. She might even get to know her more.

"I'm sure the people back home will appreciate the lack of leadership for a while." Concludes Isabelle, pushing her glass forward and asking for another.

Maia takes the glass. "Is that for you or them?"

"Probably both."

Laughing, Maia pours her another drink, stuck between looking at her eyes or the way she folds her arms over the surface of the bar.

Isabelle leans forward, a comforting warmth wrapping around the two of them from delicate company and soothing, gentle lights. It's not overbearing, small lights hung up, the amber of their glow always shining off the stacked glasses, even with morning brewing through the windows.

No wonder it's labelled as neutral ground, a safe haven-- because it is.

"I really like this place, by the way," Isabelle looks around, admiring little bits of character plotted around the establishment. "I imagine everyone who comes here feels as if they're safe."

"Not many people can feel safe anywhere, people like me, trying to find somewhere to hide from people like you," Maia looks to her, and Isabelle's smile is understanding, nodding her head as she looks to the wood of the bar. "This is my home, and not many people have one, so I share a bit of it every day so that people can feel safe. Even if it's just for an hour or two, a minute to say hi or even a whole night if there's nowhere else to go. It's a business, but it's also a second chance for some people."

"It's not just a bar." 

"Not just a bar," Repeats Maia, glad that Isabelle understands. "Well, in some cases it is for the usual customers, but there are people who walk in and I know if they're seeking the burn in their throat or a helping hand."

No wonder Magnus speaks so highly of Maia, even with just the one mention. It's clear Maia is very much an alpha in her own respects, and she treats the bar as a home where everyone who walks through that door is part of her pack. 

If they're willing to disturb that peace, then there's ways to deal with that.

"Maybe we could have more places like this," She gestures around the room, closing her eyes for a few seconds. "Places where we can just  _ be,  _ where there's no labels or looks of disgust. It's just a room with people being people."

Maia doesn't believe in that sort of future, only in her head, never out loud. "You have a lot of faith, but then I do forget you're warriors of the silver gates."

Isabelle can only laugh, a sweet smile gracing her lips as Maia winks back at her.

"Think you can handle me until four?" 

"Four?" Maia ponders, throwing the towel over her shoulder. "Seems easy enough."

Isabelle lifts her glass, raising a cheers to Maia which she gladly returns.

 

\- - - - -

 

Signing his name at the bottom of rather aged paper, Magnus sighs into his hand, leaning on it as he reads over the words written to him. It's Ragnor, requesting his visit to the London Institute after the news of Valentine's capture.

He wishes to speak with him, to celebrate, to toast to a brighter future with what Aline and Helen have planned. Ragnor has also requested that Catarina come with him, to have it like old times and debate into long hours of the night about how much they've changed over many, many years.

Putting his pen back into the ink, Magnus rolls the paper, ties it with a string and ships it off with the snap of his fingers. He could send a fire message, but Ragnor always insists on charm, spending a little more time just because they can.

Magnus can admit he enjoys it, reminds him of the old days of when cars looked more fashionable than anything else, sleek bumpers and round headlights that never really helped when driving in the dark. He swears Ragnor kept his, stores it in the mansion he's been living in for the past hundred or more years.

With his schedule clearing up, much to Magnus' regret in thinking that, Magnus is going to enjoy time away from the bustling city. It's always more peaceful there, even though the cities aren't much different, but the company is far greater. 

There's also another letter, one addressed from the dreadful Clave, stating that Valentine is now in custody and he'll be expected to attend his trial. They willingly put a thanks to Magnus, saying his cooperation helped speed things along, but Magnus did nothing of the sort, and frankly it's worrying him.

With the deal done, Magnus only has to ask how many days Alec requires in payment for his service, and then it's back to whatever people dub as normal.

But there's also another matter. A young warlock named Madzie was found at the scene, the  _ only  _ one left apart from Valentine.

Isabelle said on the phone that it was a terrible thing to witness, the damage, the aura.  _ Alec _ was still there, not the demon, or his judgement didn't find that one last soul. Magnus curses the idea, rips the letter up and sends it to ashes. There's no dwelling on that, not today. 

He'll only bring it up if Alec remembers her.

Standing up, Magnus leaves his study, coffee in hand and dressed ready for the day. He glances at the guest room door, bites his lip in thought and then moves on. No use disturbing a lion during slumber.

It takes another hour until the world wakes up, turning the radio on to the usual chip voices of presenters and the same song that played yesterday and every other hour. It's dumb, it's mundane, but Magnus loves it.

Most of all, it's a break from the reality he can't help but live in.

Magnus hears the sign of movement from the guest room not long after he finishes his coffee. It's unusual for Alec to even make noise, being the silent monster that he is.

Besides that, Alec has slept longer than Magnus thought, but then again, he doesn't even know if he's slept at all. That question sticks with him until Alec starts to walk into the main hall, into the orange light of the morning through Magnus' apartment windows.

The suit is gone, replaced by a cozy grey t-shirt and black, baggy bottoms. He'd ask why the suit is gone, why he chooses to let down his usual guard with Magnus around, but perhaps the dawning questions are distracting Alec from the devilish mask he chooses to wear.

Running a hand through his hair, Alec fixes it relatively well until he scratches the side of his head. When his hand moves to his side, head down, he lifts his shirt slightly to scratch at another itch.

It's either a normal mundane tick, or Magnus' magic is still lingering under his skin. Either way, the air is silent, the occasional bird on Magnus' balcony hopping about and surveying the city below. 

Alec still doesn't look up, red eyes dim from a pained night, and possibly a pained day ahead.

"Good morning," Magnus has to start the conversation somehow, and this seems like a good start. "Coffee?"

Alec rubs the side of his neck, not making eye contact with Magnus. He doesn't feel like he should with what's coming, the conversation they need to have.

"Yeah,"  Alec says, quickly following it up. "Please."

"Of course," Sending a smile his way, it falls on blind eyes. Alec doesn't see it. Didn't last long, anyway.

Not sure what to do with himself, Alec surveys the room, noticing there's a few candles laying around, the only light in the room and the pillar of peach and orange shining through the open balcony. 

It's a sunday morning. The world is quiet for those still on this side of the world. In other circumstances, this small endeavour could be seen as a morning between roommates, friends, and even a couple if anyone decided to ignore what this really is,  _ who  _ and  _ what  _ they are.

Either way, it's the first  _ morning  _ Alec has ever had. He can't commit it to memory because there isn't one, so the relaxing atmosphere with a slight pull of tension, it's a break in the seemingly eventful weeks.

But it's also the end. The calm after the storm, not before. Alec, for one, is going to make the most of it, even if he feels sick to the very core of his stomach about the discussion ahead.

"What are you making?" Asks Alec, clearly interested in what Magnus is pouring into a steaming pan. It's a new smell, one Alec hasn't had the chance of experiencing before.

Looking over his shoulder, Magnus lingers on Alec's face, seeing for the first time how much exhaustion weighs heavy on him. For an immortal, he looks  _ very  _ mortal. 

As Magnus allows the mixture to sizzle, he places Alec's fresh coffee onto the bar.

"Pancakes," replies Magnus, smiling as he turns back to the pan, readying to flip it. "Thought something light would start the day well."

Alec doesn't seem to agree. In fact, he doesn't say anything at all, choosing to stare and standing awkwardly patient in the middle of the room.

"Please, sit down. You're not outstaying your welcome and  _ I'm _ the one who asked you to stay. The least I can do before you go and do whatever you want to do is make you breakfast."

"It feels as if I have," Alec sniffs as he walks to the marble bar. "You've been kind far beyond what I deserve. I'm here for a job, not a pity party."

Magnus clenches the fist holding the pan. "My kindness is not pity for you. It's simply kindness."

He can't agree with that. Kindness is only one of the many wicked parts in Alec's toolkit. He doesn't see it as a necessity for everyday life, Alec uses it as a way to get what he wants.

But that thought feels  _ cold, dreaded.  _ Alec  _ regrets  _ thinking it.

"There's no bells going off, so you're not lying to me."

"As if I have reason to in the first place. Lying only gets people so far in life, and even if I have limitless amounts of days and nights, I see no desire in wasting it on petty lies." Magnus lays the third pancake on a clean plate, the other two having been done before Alec's arrival. "I have lived long enough to know that, and even if every gear in that body of yours turns the other way from my own mindset, you know deep down that's not true."

Magnus keeps eye contact, the clink of the plate contacting marble. Alec doesn't take his eyes away until Magnus finally steps back, turning his attention to the steaming pancakes, drizzled in honey.

"Perhaps it's not, but I was made to be that way." Alec picks up the provided fork. "Redemption stories aren't my thing, anyway."

He can feel it. The tension, the forced push of Alec's walls gaining ground on him. Magnus, too, is aware of the question they both need to ask.

_ How many days? _

"You can always try them," says Magnus, witty. "Wouldn't be too hard. You have the time."

_ How many days will they walk on the same earth for? _

"And what will that cost me? My own sanity trying to figure it all out?" Alec doesn't feel any right or wrong way to see it. It's futile either way.

_ How many days will I know he's here? _

"It'll cost nothing. Accepting what you deserve, what you feel, costs nothing."

_ How many days until I see you again? _

Alec almost bends his fork in half, taking a deep breath to make sure he doesn't. He wants to prove him wrong,  _ heaven above  _ he wants to prove Magnus wrong. But  _ holy shit  _ does he want Magnus to be  _ right. _

He wants to be able to believe in that light at the end of the tunnel.

Silence grows thick, though. Magnus' last words sit deep, digging deeper still. But the first bite of those pancakes, it's almost too good for Alec to fathom being real. 

The taste sets his shoulders at ease, unwinds the tension in his muscles and the furnace of power inside crackles to small, warming embers. Alec closes his eyes for a moment, lets the surrounding sounds swallow him whole.

Birds, steam, the scrape and  _ ting  _ of the kitchen equipment. The slight shuffle of Magnus' feet on the floor, the steady thump of his heart that echoes shapes of where Magnus is in front of him, even behind closed eyes.

A tingle moves over his throat, soft and gentle. It's a breeze from outside, the silk of the blinds that move as symphonies of silent music shifting and bending the light of the morning sun.

There's a word for this, itching at the tip of his thoughts, taunting him and blurred even though the rest of his mind is clear.

With the promise of warmth in his belly, the sweet taste of sugar on his tongue, the ghostly touch of the breeze that cools him without knowing; it's almost singing him to sleep. 

The promise of safety, comfort. It's all way too much for Alec, but the heavy promise of such rare wishes is difficult to ignore. And he wouldn't anyway, because these feelings and experiences are some he'll never feel again, lost between the idiocy of wanting what you can't have and still hoping for it.

"Did you sleep well?" Magnus asks, something polite, easy on the morning brain.

Alec, however, brought back from his seemingly short daze, is still in the mindset of last night.

"No… I didn't sleep at all." The demon shrugs, as if it's normal. And it is. "I don't sleep, unless I'm knocked out." 

With that, he looks to Magnus, and he doesn't have to explain himself. Magnus is aware he's referencing the other day. It doesn't even feel like long. Time has moved quickly, and the hours make it all confusing.

He didn't even close his eyes, afraid of the haunting dark that always waits for him, no matter the time of day or how many  _ good deeds  _ he's managed to bank. If he does fall asleep, it's only nightmares that'll find him, or he'll wake up with those dreaded red eyes burning bright. Magnus knows how that played out last time.

"Even the gods sleep sometimes," Magnus doesn't know where he's going with this yet. Alec will shut him down regardless.

"They have silver walls protecting them, gates only the privileged can walk through," Alec sips his drink, his distaste for the gods as bitter as his coffee. "Pretty sure they never leave, considering their minions are doing it all for them down here."

Magnus can't help but smile, amused. "Not many believe in them."

"Considering what I've been through, the gods are the least of my worries," He's not scared to admit that. Even if a fabled giant hand were to break through the clouds and smite him for his words, it can't be a worse fate than being damned to Edom. "Point is, when I close my eyes I see nothing. Compared to dreams and imaginations, I can't write a story that follows through to the end before I wake up. There's always something lingering, a shadow to tell me that even if I light a match in this seemingly never ending void, I'd still see nothing."

Bleak. That's what this is.

Magnus can't look away from Alec, caught by how solemn he sounds when speaking about his own pain. This is probably the hardest breakfast he'll ever make, and even then, it's not even the food that makes it difficult-- it's the company.

Noticing his silence, Alec finishes the rest of his coffee quickly, nose scrunching from the bitterness. Being able to taste is a luxury  _ and  _ a curse he usually can't afford. Around Magnus, though, there seems to be plenty of that luxury.

Each mouthful of pancake becomes more sour, more tasteless with the ill thoughts in his head. Talking to Magnus helps him breathe, but at the same time he's constricted by what to feel. 

If he accepts Magnus closer, he'll mourn the loss of something greater when he goes back. If Alec does the opposite, choosing to keep his distance, then he'll forever wish that he gave himself that chance.

Either way, Alec has no winning sides, only a temporary peace.

"How many days are you giving me?" Questions Alec, eyes down to his plate, fork in his hand.

Magnus pauses in time, the crackle of his own pancakes seemingly the only thing to keep him in the present. There's not much he can say, Alec will know if he's being genuine or not.

The last thing Magnus wants is to hurt him even more, especially after the secrets he knows Alec keeps hidden for reasons of his own. He can guess they're probably reasons of regret, the wish to not repeat pain he's already felt, or to repeat what he feels will only deepen the wounds.

"How many do you desire?"

Alec bites his tongue. He won't say it. He's not even sure how many days he wants otherwise.

"How about three?" That's enough for what Alec has planned, or if he chooses to follow the plan at all. He's not one to follow rules in general, unless it concerns Magnus, then he's more obliged to behave.

But the number feels hollow for Magnus. Just three? Not a week? Why is he even asking for more?

"Three?" Magnus starts, still partly wondering about giving him more. "That seems efficient enough. I don't see the problem with that."

Alec pauses, a tickle behind his ear growing irritating. As he looks up to Magnus, the devil on his shoulder whispers clearly.

_ He's lying. He's lying. He's lying. _

Magnus must have his reasons to lie, he's the only person to know Alec can tell between truth and lie. He doesn't even seem to register Alec's longing stare, too busy plating his own pancakes and forcing his shoulders to stay stiff.

"Alright," Alec looks back down, placing his fork by his plate. "Three it is."

"Do you know what you're going to do with those days? If you don't mind me asking." Magnus  _ wants  _ to know, firstly for the safety of everyone else and his own curiosity of what a damned demon wants to do with what time he has left.

Alec shrugs, words heavy on his tongue. Of course he'd want to know. Maybe that trust he thought he had doesn't really exist, or only exists in situations like the masquerade.

"Well, there's not much I'm allowed to do, right? I can't have a night alone with someone because that's physically impossible. I can't go have a casual conversation with a mundane because you banned that too." It's like he's reading a list, casually shrugging his shoulders on the last point.

"And what if I said all bets are off?" Magnus places a challenge, and it's waiting for Alec to bite. 

Shock isn't the first thing he feels, it's adrenaline. He didn't expect that at all, but the hope of it clicks something inside of Alec that's been dormant ever since the deal was made concrete.

"You'd let me off the leash?" Alec smirks, finally looking up to Magnus, holding his gaze for a few seconds before the warlock looks away.

"Figuratively speaking, yes. I'm sure you're smart enough not to do anything I'd chase you down for."

"What if I want you to?" Alec challenges back, winking when Magnus looks back again. 

Magnus smiles, shaking his head. He's rather glad Alec seems more friendly now-- more  _ himself,  _ whatever that may be.

It's better than the man he spoke to yesterday.

"I'm sure you wouldn't. That's not a smart decision, considering I'm the  _ Prince  _ of the realm you're going back to." Magnus' face drops as he says it, realising only after.

Alec's smirk has grown cold, and he's looking away, pretending as if something has caught his eye. His hellhound saves him, walking in from the guest room where she slept last night.

"Where's the sword?" Magnus asks, eating another mouthful.

"Where it always is, against my back like a fucking curse. Have the nightcrawlers been asking?" Greeting his companion, Alec stands up, leaning down to pick her up. 

"No, it's mostly me wondering about it. I haven't heard anything from them yet, which means they're still trying to drain Valentine of information. At the very least they want me to attend his trial at some point in the future."

Hearing the venom in Magnus' voice as he says that name, Alec turns to him, smiling to himself in having helped Magnus defeat a common enemy. Despite the hiccups, he's still managed to do what the deal asked.

Not bad for a first time.

"Alright," Alec scratches between the hellhound's ears, the small pup nuzzling against his chin. "Do you mind if this one stays with you for a bit?"

"Not at all," Magnus smiles towards them, thinking about something that's been bothering him. "Why haven't you named her yet?"

Pausing, Alec turns to Magnus, then looks to the pup. "I guess I'm scared of it. I know I said nothing seems to fit, but I think it's because I'm afraid of losing her."

It feels sour, wrong to watch the pair in such peaceful happiness, only to think about the worst outcome. It's a little like Magnus and Alec themselves, really.

"She saved you, didn't she?" Magnus walks around, carrying his plate with him as he cuts another slice with his fork. "I think that deserves a name worthy of it."

Smiling, Alec can't help but to agree, no matter the fear. 

"You're right," He says, pinching the pup's nose, causing her to bat her paw against Alec's hand. "She deserves the best."

As he watches them, Magnus thinks back over what he originally thought about the two. Then it hits him, placing the plate down on the kitchen side and gesturing that he'll just be a minute. Alec watches in confusion as he hurries to his study, then back out to his library, the demonic pair looking to each other, having no idea what's going on.

Eventually, Magnus walks back towards them with a small, fabric object grasped in his hand. Alec doesn't know what it is, and the pup probably thinks it's a toy for her.

"This little one protected you when it mattered most, saved you from being alone down there," As he reaches them, Magnus opens his hand, palm facing up. "I think this will be fitting for her."

A red, fabric charm, decorated in white and gold and made with care for traditions and belief in something greater.

Alec frowns at it, not following. "Does it have a name?"

"It's an Omamori charm, for protection." Magnus holds it up, the pup sniffing it with curiosity.

"Omamori," Alec says it himself, feeling how it rolls off his tongue, as if he's spoken it before. "I like it. It fits."

With approval, Magnus snaps his fingers, magic swirling around the charm as another object materializes in front of them. The charm attaches itself to a red collar, slightly smaller than it was but still intricate in detail.

"Will you do the honour?" Gesturing the collar towards Alec, the demons smiles, shakes his head.

"You really didn't have to," Alec takes it, the pup excited as Alec wiggles it on around her head. Magic locks it in place, and the newly dubbed Omamori yips and yaps at the newly acquired gift.

"But I do. She's been a delight, and it's been a delight for me to know that you aren't alone down there because of her." Magnus smiles, but it's not real. There's pain behind it because every word seems like a goodbye from now on.

Nodding, Alec decides to place Omamori down, the hellhound bouncing around with joy and trying to figure out what the collar exactly is.

Which leaves the two in silence, staring, swallowing their doubts that if Alec does leave in the next three days, it's not without the shining memory of what just happened.

Alec wants to step forward, cup his face, cry his thanks for the weeks of peace he's found in Magnus' grace. He can, but the hounds of fear keep pulling him back, pulling at the chains wrapped tight around his wrists.

"Well, can't spend the day here, can I?"

"But you could," Counters Magnus, gesturing to the space. "There's no one else here except you and me."

"And would that be a problem?" Alec asks, taking a step back, unsure of himself, the twitch of his fingers.

"No," Magnus admits, turning around, avoiding the crystal burn of Alec's red eyes. "Not at all."

Hanging in the balance of silence, Alec makes a choice.

"There's someone I want to meet today, and then some reading I'd like to do." Which means he  _ could  _ or  _ could not _ be staying here today.

"Not staying, then?" It's cruel to ask, cruel for himself to ask and the pain it brings. It shouldn't bring any pain to begin with, but it does.

"No," Alec's cold, harsh word feels worse than he'd meant it to. "I don't want to outstay my welcome."

Nothing follows, no words. But Alec's walking towards him, eyes falling down Magnus' body, heart skipping with the thought of what could be if he  _ does  _ choose to stay, for the future and now.

There's a warm breath whispering in Magnus' ear, a steady presence behind him. Alec is pulling the wolf mask back over his face, figuratively speaking, choosing to go alone.

_ "My offer still stands,"  _ Alec says, Magnus looking up, gently turning to his left where Alec leans close.

"Your offer?"

"Do you not remember?" Leaning back, Alec twirls his fingers, magic working to stitch his suit back together over his skin. "I am at your beck and call while I'm still here."

Magnus doesn't know what to say, so he blurts what his heart spins out. "You said you won't be staying here for the remainder of your days." 

"But I could." 

"And would you?"

A momentary pause, one where Alec finds out he didn't really need at all. "Yes, I would."

"Then you'll have to pray to your lucky star, won't you?" Keeping his back turned to Alec, the temptation to turn around and look is par to none.

"I don't have one," He says, smirking away from Magnus' watch. "I guess I'll have to find one, or take my chances."

"You may."

He'll say no more, because Magnus isn't one to chase, he's one to conquer. Alec on the other hand, is wild as they come, unpredictable in the most tame way.

"Very well," Alec starts, adjusting his skinny tie, looking over his shoulder but not reaching Magnus. "I'll see you in three days,  _ Prince." _

 

\- - - - -

 

Isabelle hasn't smiled like this in years, not since her last love. Perhaps it's too early to say that yet, but it's not too harsh to admit. She does like Maia, a lot, more than she thought she would when Magnus insisted on them meeting days ago.

It was for the mission, mostly, but now she's found herself realising that Magnus' words were also a nudge. She's thankful for them, truly, laughing at another tale Maia finishes telling about one of her frequent customers.

"That  _ can't  _ be true," Isabelle says, lifting her new glass of wine, slightly buzzed after multiple hours of talking to such a beautiful and strong woman, and then an hour of the wine bottle Maia broke out when the clock struck four in the afternoon.

"I'm afraid it is," Laughs Maia, sipping her wine glass. It's become colder outside since Isabelle arrived this morning, which means winter is definitely on the doorstep. 

"You love the job though, don't you?" 

"I do," Maia sighs, swirling the wine in her glass, sat at the table while someone else covers her shift at the bar. She's the boss of this place, after all. "Some days you'd rather just stay in bed, but hearing that bell ding every time someone comes in is like another story finding its way here."

Maia's phone dings, a number she'd named as  _ 'A'.  _ Choosing to ignore it, Maia turns it over so she can't see the screen, smiling when Isabelle gestures towards it.

"Nothing important?"

"Nope," shrugs Maia. "Not my problem anymore, to be honest."

And then the bell rings at the door five minutes later, a tall, swallowing presence seeping into the warm atmosphere of the pub. It's Alec, dressed in all black, a far cry from what he wore when he first met Maia.

His eyes search for her, hands in his pockets until he spots Maia, talking with someone else, his eyes almost burning with hatred as he spots the dark ink against her skin.

Maia feels the glare before anything else, turning to face Alec as he stands at the door. When Isabelle's story doesn't get much in terms of a reply, she stares at Maia, following her line of sight until she sees Alec herself.

That jaw, his suit-- it's something she's seen before.

All too soon, Maia stands up, a stern expression on her face as she leaves Isabelle on her own. She's fixed on him, Alec having turned his glare to Isabelle when the hunter focuses on him again.

It's only when Maia places a hand on his chest does Alec look away.

"What are you  _ doing here?" _

Alec cocks his head. "I'm only allowed here, remember?"

"You should've let me know." Crossing her arms, she gives Alec space, but more for herself than Alec. She doesn't miss the image her mind conjures of snakes crawling over Alec's shoulders towards her hand.

"I did." Alec lifts his phone for their conversation, and Maia can see that ignoring his message was a greater mistake than she originally thought.

_ A: [I'm coming over. I need to talk to you.] _

"You didn't think it'd be wise to wait for my reply?" She can't raise her voice, not with Isabelle already walking towards them.

"Alas, I don't have much time," Alec smiles, but it's pettiness more than kindness. "I thought I'd save the pleasantries for another time."

This isn't Alec. This isn't the man she spoke to before. Something has changed, drastically, as if who he pretended to be was just a play, a facade.

"Is everything alright?" Questions Isabelle, standing by Maia's side with arms folded. 

"Of course. This is just an acquaintance of Magnus. I didn't realise he was coming over today." Maia has to come up with  _ something  _ at least, a way to distract Isabelle from the truth that's so clearly there in the form of Alec's eyes.

"Oh, it's nice to meet you." Holding out her hand for Alec to shake, he flinches, meeting her gaze head on, not making any move to return the gesture.

That's when it hits her.

"Do I know you from somewhere?" Asks Isabelle, noticing his rather formal attire. It's similar if not the same to what she's seen before.

And those  _ eyes,  _ she remembers them being something more tame, more  _ mundane.  _

"I don't think you do," Alec turns away, only to have Isabelle step in front of him, realisation clear on her face. It doesn't take Isabelle long to stitch together the clues.

"Wait," Isabelle squints, noticing how Alec's eyes glow red, the distinct heavy atmosphere that haunts him. "You're the guy from the party-- you're the one dating Magnus?"

Alec almost laughs.  _ "Dating?  _ I don't think so, miss." 

"You were there, but you didn't have those eyes." She takes a step closer, much to Alec's surprise. It's not like anyone to trust Alec as soon as they see him close, when they can see past the handsome shell.

Well, except Magnus.

Maia looks to Alec, shrugging her shoulders. There's no real way to get around this, and Maia won't allow any funny business in her bar.

Suddenly, Isabelle's blade is to Alec's throat, and Alec didn't even see it coming. Her face is stern, determined as she searches for fear. Alec doesn't show any.

"You-- you're  _ him,  _ aren't you?" 

The bar suddenly goes silent, faces turning to witness the scene. Alec feels darkness growing, the ebbing hatred for the weapon pointed directly at him. Maia won't let him off the leash if he makes an inferno in here. Besides, he doesn't want to lose one of the  _ very few _ friends he has.

Besides, there's other ways he can show he means business.

Alec moves to grip the sword, the blade not even cutting his skin as he clenches his grip over the metal. It starts to steam, the smile of Alec's face growing diagonal, smirking as the blade melts back to the material it once was.

Isabelle feigns belief. There's no way  _ that's  _ normal.

"I am," Alec replies, snatching the rest of the blade from her hand. "Excuse me, but I really don't have a soft spot for your  _ kind." _

Throwing one half of the blade to the floor, Alec raises his hand not covered in melted metal, twisting his magic around his fingertips to cause the surrounding souls to fall to the floor.

Maia feels the click in her bones, and Alec hears it. "Don't worry, they're just asleep." But he's not quite finished, tilting his head as he smiles towards her. "And a little memory loss. Can't have myself breaking promises so close to freedom."

Isabelle still stands in shock, dropping the handle of the blade and looking around. It's hard to believe they had any chance reasoning with Alec if this is the result of one simple hand movement. He's not just any demon, but a greater demon, one forged not to take pity on the people that damned him.

"Isabelle," Maia walks to her side, placing a hand on her arm. "He's not here to hurt you, despite his awful first impression." Glancing to Alec, she frowns, and Alec can only feel a small inkling of regret as he fixes his tie.

"My first impression?" Scoffs Isabelle, folding her arms as she meets Alec again. "I had the first impression of you being Magnus' second half, not his pet demon."

"I'm not his  _ pet.  _ I'm his business partner, if you will."

"To take down Valentine?" More and more questions.

"Exactly. As you may have heard, that rat is in your precious Clave's hands." That very mention of the Clave from Alec's mouth gives Isabelle a shiver.

He knows about the Clave. He knows about  _ all of them.  _ But Isabelle doesn't know the full extent of that, and whether it's totally true.

"And why are you still here, then? Why aren't you back in Edom?"

Alec grits his teeth, hands shoved into his pockets as he turns around, heading towards the bar. He moves someone in his way with a flick of his finger, sliding them across the floor.

"If you were me, you'd make any deal that keeps you away from that place. Unfortunately, Magnus is a man of his word, and you won't have to put up with me for too long." Sitting on a stool, Alec pats the surface next to him. "So, please, let us sit and chat like normal mundanes before I have to suffer an eternity of torture."

His smile is solemn, and Isabelle gets a taste of why Magnus trusted him in the first place. Alec is brutally honest, forced to.

"Oh," Alec reveals the sword on his back from under the veil of his glamour,  unsheathing it to place on the bar surface. "And to prove it, here's your precious instrument."

Isabelle grows cold. It's a sight she never thought she'd see. The sword has completely changed, forged with new colours and cracks that show the power coursing through it. It's no longer holy, cursed with Edom's flames.

"This is…" She steps closer, going to touch it, but Maia takes hold of her wrist.

"I wouldn't," Maia says, Isabelle taking her hand back. "As tempting as it is, this sword isn't what you remember anymore."

Maia isn't dumb. She knows from looking at the sword that it's far from dangerous, and it's only going to allow one person to wield it.

"Why are you-- why are you showing me this?"

"To prove to your Clave it's not the weapon they think it is. It's mine now, I'm bound to it. There's no chance in any heaven the blood of your people can use it again." Alec stares at the blade, fear hidden deep within his posture.

"That won't stop them," Isabelle whispers, wondering what happened to the blade for such drastic changes. Alec can tell her, but he doesn't want to dig up that painful past to one of the people he once was. "They'll do anything to get it."

Alec laughs, taking the sword by the handle and lifting it up. "Let us be entertained then, shall we?" Clicking his tongue, he places it back onto his back, shaking his head. "Alas, I forgot. They won't even know I'm here, and in three days time, I'll be as good as history."

Maia passes him a glass of wine, and to Alec's surprise, the sweet taste of it curls over his tongue. It puzzles him, makes him quiet to the point where Maia and Isabelle aren't sure what to say.

Isabelle looks at him,  _ really  _ looks at him. He's dressed in formal attire but his posture could match that of a drunkard. The sword paints a picture of power and complete, utter darkness, but it accepts the light of the sun all the same. Even the red, pulsing energy that seems to break through the now darkened cracks of metal, there's remnants of a past.

A past that clings to both of them.

"Three days?" Maia finally speaks up, breaking Alec from thousands of voices in his head.

"Mm," he mumbles, "I asked for three days. I talk shit about manners, but I was hoping to make peace-- if that's the correct word, even."

In other words, he wants to say goodbye to a life he didn't get much chance to live.

"And did Magnus allow you those days?" Isabelle's turn, this time.

"He did, kindly." Taking another sip of the wine, he swallows hard. "I fear I shouldn't take his kindness to heart. It's pity more than anything, I feel, and I shouldn't outstay my welcome."

Silence wraps them again, someone snoring in the background, but the atmosphere remains tense.

Until it isn't. Words of a broken man speaking-- no,  _ whispering  _ into the cold, winter air.

"Is it wrong to hope I'll come back?" Alec doesn't say it to anyone in particular, more to himself. 

Maia feels her chest tighten, not allowing herself to say anything. She's not the person to spit hope when it's so far from the truth, mere sand that'll fall between their fingers.

Alec is a lost soul, and he'll remain that way. There's people to help guide him, a moment where he feels as if he's going somewhere; but ultimately he'll always be lost once more.

There's no home, no refuge. He's a wild flame to a forest, and there'll be nothing left.

"I shouldn't have come here," Alec stands from the stool, a croak to his voice that shouldn't be there. It's only been an hour since he said he wanted three days, and it's barely took him  _ one  _ to hate the thought of never coming back. "I'm sorry."

"Alec," Reaching for him, Maia can't help the breath she inhales when Alec looks to her. 

He doesn't have to say it, but Alec's words are clear as day.

_ You know you can't do that. _

Maia looks to her hand, hovering near where Alec's hand clutches the edge of the bar.

He gives one, mournful look to Isabelle before he turns around and heads to the door. Alec leaves them in a heavy silence, not sure what steps to take or word to say. 

Isabelle knows his name now, at least, not the title they all hauntingly give him.

Never in their lives did they think they'd feel such an emotion for a demon, a greater one at that.

 

\- - - - -

 

Even the pure adrenaline, the growl of the engine he forces to work harder, it does nothing to drown out the white noise. Alec doesn't want to spend his remaining two days wallowing in self pity about who he could be, who  _ Magnus  _ could make him be.

He's had enough. Alec isn't meant to be weak, to chase after lingering desires. They're meant to come to him, to seek  _ Alec  _ out in order to confess all of their horrible sins. 

Even as the city grows distant behind him, his foot is hesitant on the peddle, grit teeth and white knuckles.

Fuck this humanity, fuck it  _ all.  _ It's worse feeling something than nothing at all, and knowing he can lose something so much more when he originally had nothing-- it's like someone is grinding sandpaper against his ribs, hard to breathe, swallowing air that feels like it'll never be the same again if he leaves.

It doesn't make it any easier that the seat beside him was once filled, the man dressed like the royalty that he is.  _ Magnus,  _ the man that pretend to be  _ his  _ for one night only. Looking back, he wishes it was real, that Magnus was something to him, but all they'll ever be is just  _ business. _

Not friends, nothing more. Perhaps whispers in the night, his name spoken like honey on Magnus' tongue, but even that's so far in another life that Alec bites the very thought away.

He feels like finding a club, wanting to feel something other than the seconds that tick down like a rash on his skin. Maybe he could find someone, alcohol burning his throat without the sickly taste of it, the bass of music eagerly punching at his senses.

Perhaps then, he'll forget. He'll kiss someone, take them home, concentrate on his own gain and nothing more. Alec squeezes the wheel of the car even more, only pushing himself to more hurt. 

Even if he does find someone, kisses them, feeds on their sins and wildest desires-- he'll never be able to touch, to hold, to hope of something beyond a magic barrier.

He'll never be able to touch this world, always cursed to feel flames and the ash it creates at his fingertips.

But that's a thought, having not fed in a while. Magnus said he'd let him off the lead for three days, so surely that's included.

Magnus won't know, and Alec thinks he won't care either.

Kicking his car around, Alec forces his car to roar back down the highway, into the sprawling city, music blaring from speakers all around him. He throws his keys to one of the drivers as he arrives, taking his tie from around his neck as he flirts his way in. Nothing a little demonic magic can't do.

Funny enough, this is Magnus' club. Alec can't stay away, it seems.

The music is heavy, lyrics rapped with a steady beat that makes Alec's lips curve to a smirk. There's so much atmosphere, his senses overloading, fingertips twitching to move to the beat that shakes his very bones.

Lights warp, jumping and matching the beat, people dancing, grinding as they lift their glasses and bottles high. Everyone comes here to have fun, to forget, to love even if just for one single glance.

But Alec doesn't know where to start. He walks between people, eyes scanning different faces. No one pays attention to how his red eyes glow in the low light, bouncing with the fluorescents. 

It's not until a man of blonde, short hair and green eyes stumbles into him that Alec concludes what he wants.

"Shit, sorry man!" The man laughs, raising his beer to take a swig, gesturing that he's had one too many.

Alec's heart twists, going against what his inner demon screams to do. He's mundane, intoxicated, the sweet pulse of his blood extra music to his ears.

But a name brings him from his trance, pushing past the blonde, much to the guys disappointment. For a second, Alec looked interested.

And the music gets louder,  _ louder, louder.  _ He escapes through the back, lungs heavy with air that doesn't feel welcome, making his fists clench. 

_ Fuck you, Magnus.  _

Alec's fist makes contact with the wall, the pain of bricks breaking over his bone little to nothing. His wounds heal in seconds, and Alec can't even feel the relief of letting his anger out because his body always wants him to be complete, to be  _ perfect. _

Running his hands through his hair, Alec can't get Magnus out of his head. He believes in him, trusts him to be a man more than a demon, but Alec can't understand  _ why. _

Let him be bad, let him be the demon he is-- why waste time on something so far gone? Why bother trying to change tomorrow when it's already so bleak?

Alec feels like crying, his back to the cold wall he can't feel, canines digging into his bottom lip, cursing the heavens and their silver gates.

"You look bad," A man speaks, the music still loud enough to whisper out here. "You with someone?"

Alec doesn't answer him.

"Dude? You alright?" The mundane must feel the air get thicker, because he takes a few steps back when Alec looks to him.

"I wouldn't try speaking to me,  _ mundane."  _ Venom slicks his voice.

"Okay…" the man fumbles with his phone, bringing it to his ear. "I'll call you a cab at least."

The air shifts as the mundane looks down to his phone, the blurry shape of feet appearing in his view.

When he looks up, Alec is  _ right there,  _ red eyes  _ burning  _ into his very soul, rooting the mundane to the spot. He drops his phone, shattering against the concrete of the back alley.

Black veins spread up Alec's neck, parted lips showing fangs that grow. Alec takes his time, reaching for his neck as magic glamours over his hands, the mundane still in shock as Alec bites down.

And just like that, Alec is reminded of how it feels, the power he has. Magic keeps the mundane from igniting, but as each second ticks by, it won't stop the inevitable.

Pulling his teeth away, Alec's eyes close, the mundane still holding his open in shock. He didn't intend to do this, but who is he trying to fool?

He said it to himself in his car. Alec needs to forget, to distract and make himself hurt less in the time he has left.

Thankfully, Alec only had a small taste, the remaining angel on his shoulder keeping him from losing it completely. That angel isn't even an angel, but he acts like one.

"You won't remember any of this," Alec speaks, shoving the mundane away, guilt clear in his eyes as he compels him. "Go home."

It hurts to say.  _ Go home.  _ Even as the mundane leaves his phone smashed on the ground, barely gathering his feet to run, Alec can't appreciate the taste of sin he just had.

In honesty, he feels sick, taking a few steps back until he collides with the wall, shrinking down to the floor.

_ Fuck.  _ Why did he even do that? What was he trying to prove to himself?

Closing his eyes, Alec is at a loss, moisture threatening to spill over even though there's no use in hoping. He just keeps thinking it;  _ fuck you, Magnus. You broke me. _

He should feel alive, grinning at the power that runs through him, but he feels sick, wasted beyond compare and guilt echoing on his fingertips.

Being the  _ Swordsman  _ is all he knows, and now there's more, all because of  _ him. _

Because of  _ Magnus. _

His phone buzzes in his suit pocket. It has to ring twice before Alec fishes it out, squinting at the screen, pain behind his eyes as if he's heavily hungover.

_ BANE: [My apartment.] _

_ BANE: [Now.] _

_ BANE: [I won't ask again, so please. Come over.] _

Alec's not a man, he's a complicated one. But even so, he sees Magnus' name, and it's never been more simple.

Magnus calls, Alec comes running.

 

\- - - - -

  
  


"I thought I wouldn't see you for another three days." 

Alec's words come with hesitation, uncertainty. He doesn't know if this is a cry for help, a call for a quick memory, or Magnus has finally come to his senses and how  _ bad  _ of an idea it is to let a demon loose for three days.

But Magnus doesn't seem sure himself, still holding his phone in his hand. "Maia messaged me."

Ah, so that's why. Alec's frown deepens, walking around the apartment slowly with one hand in his pocket, the other inspecting various items he finds of interest.

He can't stand still, heart leaping more than it should. Hope is a rather fickle thing.

"It seems I didn't meet expectations a second time." Is all Alec can reply.

"You knocked out the entire bar,  _ and  _ you scared Isabelle more than you should have. I wouldn't blame her if she runs to tell the Clave about you."

"But she won't."

"She could," Magnus argues, not backing down, even when Alec's gaze towards him is filled with annoyance. "And you know that."

Alec sniffs, putting down an antique pot that's painted delicately with the scales of dragons. "Perhaps I do. Perhaps I want the Clave to know about me."

It clicks.

"You want them to know, don't you?" There's no escaping this conversation, not when it's as clear as day, no matter how dark the apartment is thanks to the arrival of night.

"Why would I waste my time with them, Bane? Do you expect me to taunt a pack of wild dogs? Yes, I can take them on and be the menace I was made to be, but it doesn't mean I  _ want  _ to." Alec halts next to Magnus' grand piano, fingertips moving over the cold, black surface on the top.

"If it's not that, then what is it?"

"I'll tell you, Prince. Stop searching your mind for the truth when I'm the walking version of it." Alec picks up the cover, gaining interest as to what this contraption is. "I simply have no care anymore. If my days count down every second, then why waste a second on something as unimportant as manners? People here will not care for my rude comment if I'm long gone by twenty years."

Magnus watches Alec from the center of the room, Alec becoming nervous as he realises the keys of the piano feel fragile under his touch. He doesn't know what this is.

"You care," Magnus makes Alec pause. "I know you do, otherwise you wouldn't have apologised when you were leaving."

Alec huffs. He can't explicitly remember apologising, those last few moments becoming a blur, as if the clockwork of gears inside him  _ chose  _ to delete that small detail.

"You felt guilty." Is all Magnus manages to say before Alec cuts him off with a sharp tone.

"They heard something they wanted to hear, not what actually happened." There's no exact truth in this, what Alec speaks, but it's more of an opinion than truth or lie.

Magnus needs to be careful of it. Even if he can  _ only  _ speak the truth, it doesn't stop the many twisted ways people can lie about that exact truth, to make it a question and not a statement.

Even then, it's not just Alec. Everyone does it.

"I didn't think your pride was that heavy," placing his phone aside, Magnus gives Alec his full attention. "But maybe I'm foolish for believing otherwise."

"Seems you've grown soft on me," Alec moves his fingertips along the keys, frowning at how loose they feel, some more than others. What  _ is  _ this thing?

"I've done no such thing," those words become an arrow to the chest for Alec, "I simply trusted you."

Clenching his fist, Alec doesn't dare himself to look at Magnus' expression. He can already sense the doubt, the small spark of hatred for Alec pushing his trust beyond boundaries.

"Ah," Alec sighs, coming to terms with that means. "I guess this  _ is  _ my final goodbye, isn't it?"

"No," Magnus takes steps closer, slowly, footsteps a small thump when he crosses over from tile to wood. "You did this on purpose."

Alec halts, a twitch occuring in his fingers. "Excuse me?"

"You want me to send you back now, so you're causing havoc. If you break the rules I've given you freedom from, you'll think I'll have the needs to express a closure to the deal." Magnus folds his arms, posture strong but closed off.

He wants to know why; why Alec can't seem to enjoy what he has left. Why force Magnus to make a decision? Why behave badly when he's proved more than once he's capable of being something more?

"Ever observant, aren't we, Bane?" Turning to him, Alec places his hands in his pocket.

Magnus' eyes drop to the collar of his shirt. "And you didn't even bother to cover up the fact you fed on a mundane."

Alec's gaze drops. That hit a nerve, and more than one. Despite that, Alec still holds the satisfaction that it's annoying Magnus, that it's forcing him to make a decision quicker than he'd like. 

"Don't worry. Guy will be fine after some sleep." Adds Alec, shrugging his shoulders, as if it's no big deal. Inside, he's hurting.

"And you did it in my club."

"Outside, correction."

"Still close enough to trigger my wards. I thought you were there to drink, not drink in  _ that  _ way." Magnus takes steps closer, Alec swallowing as Magnus' stern expression pins him to the spot. "Why are you doing this? Why are you so adamant that I dislike you?"

Alec bites his lip, worries it between his teeth. Shit. He can't answer that, even when it was so clear on his tongue moments ago. "How do you not?"

"Because believe it or not, Alec, I don't see the world in a negative light, even though we're blinded by it. Despite who you are, despite who you  _ think  _ you are, you've managed to save us from a plague." Magnus looks to his left, towards his library. "You have no history, no prophecy. The future is yours to make, and yet you'd rather prove the angels right rather than wrong."

_ "What?"  _ Alec almost shouts, hissed between grit teeth. Just the very mention of the angels is enough to boil his blood. "You think I'm trying to make them  _ proud?  _ That their little plan to break me  _ worked?"  _

Scoffing, Alec shuffles on his feet, takes a deep breath, calming the snakes that start to sing inside.

"Well, it  _ worked,"  _ spits Alec, glaring at Magnus, sadness swimming in his eyes. "I can't touch this world, I can't imagine anyone wasting time to try and fix me. There's so many parts of me that you don't know are broken."

"We're all broken. It makes us human."

"I  _ hate  _ being like this, not knowing,  _ feeling  _ these emotions I can't even name. It's like I'm sick, constantly, trying to figure out why I'm so alone but I have thousands of voices speaking to me." Alec gestures to Magnus, towards his chest. "I see yours, your demons, your doubts, and yet you hold them on your shoulders as if they weigh nothing. I'm not you, I'm not  _ anyone--  _ I can't just magically become a human when I've forgotten the basics, when I can't even  _ touch  _ the world they belong in."

_ Good, let it out.  _ That's what Magnus thinks, smiling, because Alec is far more human, able to feel confused, anxiety, sickness of the uncertainty of what his future entails.

Alec can't believe he's smiling, closing his eyes for a few seconds incase it's his mind playing tricks. But when he opens them again, Magnus is  _ still  _ smiling, and he's taking a step forward.

"You could have taken advantage of the fact that you're free, that I've given you so many second chances-- but you don't. You don't do anything but argue with yourself about what feels right and what feels wrong." Magnus knows he's going to have to push it, but he'll sink hope into him even if it hurts.

He can't watch Alec fall apart any more than he already has.

Magnus' smile fades as Alec shakes his head. "You're just saying this."

"For what? To keep you on my side? To help you escape? To gain ego and pride because I saved someone broken?" Keeping his gaze on Alec, he watches the demon scan his face, trying to find faults in the truth his magic doesn't define as a lie.

Silence follows his questions, even though they were rhetorical. Even then, Alec wants to answer, hisses in the back of his throat when he can't find anything. Magnus speaks for both of them.

"You could twist me to something evil, put nightmares in my head, put  _ images  _ in my head to make you stay. I can't have you believe you're this sickened monster the angels want you to believe because you aren't, Alec. You're  _ not  _ a monster."

"But I could-- I could be."

"Do it, then," challenges Magnus, and Alec's whole posture stiffens. "Prove me wrong."

'What?"

"Prove me wrong, Alec," he gestures towards his own chest, right over his heart. "Prove to me you're what you say you are, not what  _ I  _ believe. You did say to me that I have too much faith, so break it."

Alec looks as if he's turned cold, sick with a fever. "You can't ask that of me."

"Do you not see what I mean?" Magnus gives time for Alec to see, but he doesn't. "You ignored my order to do evil, you're  _ choosing  _ not to do what you can easily do with the snap of your fingers."

Suddenly, Alec stalks forward, crowding into Magnus' personal space. He can feel Magnus' breath hitch, the warm air blowing over his cheek.

"Why are you doing this to me?" Alec whispers, broken, searching Magnus' eyes for the truth he wants to believe, not what's already there. 

"I'm not doing anything," he says in return, wanting to hold Alec's face, to prove him wrong furthur, but Alec seems stiff. Trying to comfort him when comfort is so drilled into his worst fears isn't exactly the way to go. "You're not evil, Alec. You're more human than anyone I know."

That's all it takes. Alec's bottom lip wobbles, and he flinches away, fists clenched as he whips around.

Magnus sees so much good in him when Alec can't feel anything but evil. He's blind to the emotions he feels, seeing them as a weakness rather than what every person goes through.

It's too confusing, too conflicting to believe when it won't matter. As soon as Alec goes back, the flames won't care for how much he smiled, how good his heart seems to be.

It'll dig, dig and  _ dig  _ into his soul until everything about Magnus, Isabelle, Maia, Lucian-- all the  _ good  _ in his eternal life is  _ gone. _

_ "Fuck you, _ Magnus," Alec curses between his teeth, slams his fists into the keys only to get a shock.

The loud drum that echoes back, slicing through the apartment from the piano makes Alec  _ flinch  _ back away from it. Magnus notices how startled he is, how he cautiously holds his hands close to his chest.

Taking a deep breath, Alec's ears continue to ring until the noise drowns out. He didn't expect that at all, and the sudden loud drum of the combined keys he punched reminds him of something that still haunts him, something that will haunt him for all of eternity. 

"Shit, I--," Alec heaves, feels his chest compress as he steps back, almost bumping into Magnus.

"Alright?" Magnus questions, softer than he sounded minutes ago. 

This is what Alec needed. A switch. Allowing himself to feel something as simple as anger, confusion,  _ want--  _ it's a small step but a necessary one.

"Yeah," he nods, still looking towards the piano. "That sounded so-- so familiar."

Magnus looks towards the piano for a second, thinking, before turning his attention back to Alec. "The piano?"

"Piano?" Alec's voice is so weak it almost breaks Magnus, closing his eyes to will away the heavy sound in his head. 

"Yes, that's my grand piano." Stepping beside Alec, he gestures towards it, pulling the seat out without magic. 

There's a time and place for using magic, but in the gentle silence of this moment, it's not now.

"It's-- so loud." Alec follows him, cautious but curious.

Magnus laughs, only a little one. "That's what happens when you slam an instrument. If you're willing to stay, I can teach you." Magnus stays by his side, fear not present. Alec is still adjusting to that factor. "If you don't want to talk about anything else, then we'll do something else. Teaching you how to play piano is as mundane as it can get right now."

"I should leave."

"I'm allowing you to stay. I -  _ want _ you to stay." Magnus turns away from him, not wanting to see what choice he has in replying, the expression his face will hold.

He sits down on the chair, enough space left for Alec to sit comfortably next to him. It's a chair for two people, even though Magnus plays alone. Hopefully today, that will change.

Alec is still hesitant, focusing between Magnus and the rest of the apartment. He's not sure what to make of such an invitation, or what it's supposed to mean.

"I don't know what to do." 

"Sit down," Magnus gestures to the seat, "I'll show you."

Swallowing, his lungs feel uneasy, Magnus' stare far from readable. It's almost as if he isn't sure either. He'd ask it again, but this isn't something so daring. It's playing an instrument, not deciding their future.

Alec sees no other choice, sitting down, hesitant as he moves, completely aware of how little distance now separates them. 

Magnus doesn't waste time. He does let him settle, to take a deep breath and say that he's ready, but Magnus doesn't want to see how lonely Alec looks, how lost he is and scared of something that won't hurt him.

He starts by explaining what the keys are, different notes and keys and what they all equal to. Alec, for the most part, just watches Magnus' hands, entranced by how they move so delicately, but at the same time with so much poise that he oozes strength and control.

Magnus is not a small man, but some of his movements are. He doesn't need spectacles and extravagant moves to show how powerful or strong he is, not in moments like this when it's just him and Alec. 

That does sound nice in his head. Him and Alec.

Alec picks it up quickly, Magnus isn't surprised. He's shown he can learn things by simply watching, letting his magic do the work for him, writing code into his soul every single day so that he becomes faster, stronger.

It wasn't meant to be used for this, to learn how to play piano.

When Alec presses his first key, the sweet tune of music flowing from the instrument, Alec smiles. He's capable of making something so innocent, so peaceful, just like Magnus can.

"Now try a sequence," Magnus suggests, hands away from the keys so Alec can create on his own.

"Are you- are you sure?" Alec doesn't move until Magnus nods.

It takes a few seconds, but Alec's hands gain rhythm, the apartment becoming alive with the sound of music. It brings joy to both of them, especially when the silence of their thoughts are so damaging to both of them, questions they have about each other a constant knocking.

When Alec finishes the short sequence, he keeps his fingers on the keys as if he wants to go again.

"Fun, isn't it?"

Alec can't help but smile, reaching his ears. "Yeah, it really is."

He goes to stand up, but Magnus is quick to tell him otherwise.

"I can teach you more."

"I- I don't want to break it, Bane. This seems special to you."

Magnus sighs at the use of his last name. "Can you not call me Magnus?"

"No," there's not much thought required for that one. "I have my reasons."

Defeated, Magnus turns back to the piano. "Very well, that's your choice."

Alec suddenly regrets his decision to leave. But just as he's about to sit back down, Magnus speaks up again.

"I always play alone. My friends know how to play but they always leave me to do it alone. Apparently, I sound great,  _ just fine _ on my own, that I can entertain hundreds of people just by myself." Something's cracked open, somewhere deep down behind Magnus' walls that he's allowing Alec to see. "I don't want to play alone tonight."

Heavy, truthful words. Alec knows this is the most open he's seen Magnus, allowing his wish to seep through when usually he'd keep it to himself. It's always Magnus, always Magnus that has to do good for others.

Just this one time, he wants to be selfish, to ask for something he can't really have.

It's not selfish at all. People have made him believe that, even if he knows it's not true.

"I'll stay." 

Magnus smiles, pressing a key, then another as he starts a melody. "Thank you, Alec."

In a way, Alec is still under Magnus' command, but they both asked and answered outside of that. Magnus asked because he's terribly lonely, and Alec said yes because he too, is lonely.

They both are and they don't realise it.

"You would ask for my time and not your friends?" Alec can't hide his shock, smile too bright to miss. "That's rotten work, wanting to do that." He keeps pressing piano keys, one by one working out the rhythm as Magnus watches him, handing the reins over to him.

He's gentle, precious with the notes he makes.

"Not when it's you." And the noise stops.

Alec doesn't seem to have the motor to move his head to face Magnus with what he's just said. What does that even mean?

"Awfully poetic, that is." Is all he can say, moving his fingers to more keys but not pressing them.

"I wouldn't be allowing you to play my original grand piano if I didn't trust you. It's not like you can walk into any department store and pick one of these up." Magnus presses a singular key, the tune slightly off from age, but he's never had the heart to fix it. He's always thought it gives the instrument character, its own soul that says;  _ I've survived this long, the least you can let me do is sound a little odd. _

"Maybe you're just fickle with your possessions." He's not even sure what he means himself, Alec going back to playing, but only for a few seconds to allow Magnus to speak.

Alec wants him to speak, wants to mesmerize his voice long enough so he'll never forget it. 

"I take care of things I care about," Magnus looks to Alec, Alec's shoulders locking when he feels his gaze. "A lot of people should learn from that."

He still doesn't look at him, not even when he says, "Are you saying I should? Have a little care for the world that threw me away?"

"No," Magnus nudges him so he can reach the keys on his side, Alec moving his hands away to place on his lap. "I'm saying that you should care for what you have, what you want and what you need. The world isn't going to hand it to you like a parent would with a gift at Christmas. Respect and cherishing something can't be bought."

Magnus starts playing again, Alec's red eyes watching with clear interest. The music wraps around him, calms the wolves in his bones, clears his mind of fog. It's a small little heaven, hidden behind Magnus' magic and away from those above that would intervene.

He finds himself smiling, wondering just how many songs one can play on such a device. Alec would like another name for it, though, not just a  _ thing  _ to do another  _ thing  _ like that's its only purpose.

"Beautiful." Alec whispers, hand reaching up to touch the marble cover for the keys, noticing the various engravings of dates and names. 

Then he feels the rhythm, the strings being plucked, the buzz of each note drumming through the frame like it's alive, as if it has its own heartbeat. Perhaps, if he closes his eyes, he'll be able to listen closer, to let each musical note take him down a path to hold hands with the next one.

"Hmm?" Magnus replies, not quite hearing him over the soft music so close to them.

"It's beautiful," he gestures to Magnus' hand, taken from his short daze. "The song you're playing."

"Quite," agrees Magnus, smiling. "My mother used to play this to me. Not on a piano, but she used to hum."

Alec is about to ask what anyone else would, to learn more, but Alec is equipped with ill knowledge and guidance. Something changes around Magnus, a looming sadness over his shoulder that zips his lips shut.

"I'm sorry," Alec says, full of remorse, as if he's feeling that pain Magnus can feel but never, ever being able to understand it. 

The room goes silent for a moment, Magnus moving his finger down the broken key. Alec concludes that the world seems awfully bleak without that song in it.

"We all are." Magnus finally speaks up, a solemn smile on his face. "She was one of the good ones."

There's nothing more Alec wants to do, nothing more than to reach out and comfort him. He can't, though. He's been cursed in many ways more than one to not be capable of kindness.

But there is one thing he can do, to tell the truth, to allow Magnus in to whatever he has left of his trust. Frankly, he doesn't have any, but the silence needs filling before he feels as if he doesn't belong-- as if this is all the world will give him: silence.

"I need to tell you the truth." Alec keeps his head down, focuses completely on the piano even though it's no longer playing Magnus' heartful tune.

Honestly, these are words Magnus has been dreading. Alec doesn't talk much, about anything, and for him to break the silence with the promise of something true? Of course Magnus is going to be worried. Especially after what he just spoke about, the silence that followed.

Is this his way of trying to comfort him? To let Magnus in? It feels twisted, like it shouldn't be this way, but it's the only option Alec has.

He's trusted a greater demon all this time, believed that there wouldn't be anything holding Alec from turning against him.  But if he is, or if he  _ did,  _ then Alec sounds as if he's going to stop the storm, not part the clouds.

"The truth?" Is all Magnus can say back to him, feeling the thin ice they're treading on crack beneath his feet in high pitched clicks.

"About what I know," clenching his fist, Alec feels the piano keys grow cold, a confusing opposite to the heat of his blood. He doesn't want to sit around, not when he feels like something is crawling under his skin.

"You don't have to. This is a tough subject for you, and you shouldn't feel as if you owe it to me." Magnus turns to him, watching him clench his jaw, at war with words. The demon doesn't seem to move until Magnus starts speaking again. "It's the only thing you have, and I don't want to take that away from you."

Alec bites his tongue.  _ This is the only thing I have, here, with you. _

Swallowing the words he wants to say, Alec tips his head back, stupidly hoping for strength from above. Maybe it's a habit from his life long gone. He's anxious, and the way he's trying to keep himself busy by moving around, it's a clear sign that Alec isn't sure  _ what  _ he wants.

"I don't owe you anything, I haven't warranted that. I completed the deal, that's it. Payment rendered." Alec wants to feel for the mark on his neck, but it's probably already gone. "Keeping me here, dragging out time, that's your expense and not mine."

"It's nice to see you’re still sharp," teases Magnus, but it doesn't coax a smile out of Alec, only a glance. "I expected this to go wrong, in honesty."

"Well, my track record is quite good." 

"Record?" There's been more deals?

"One hundred percent pass rate," He can hear Magnus' deep breaths beside him. "You'd know that well."

Magnus isn't following. "I would?"

"Yeah," Alec presses a single key, meets his gaze as Magnus waits, listening to the clock tick by on the wall beside them. "You're the only one."

Oh. It was that simple after all. But that still doesn't make it any easier for Magnus to understand, until it all clicks, and Alec's words are the answer he hears inside his own head, simultaneously speaking as if he's heard them before.

"The only one?"

"The only one," repeats Alec, not sure how to read his facial expression. "Do you know why?"

"My magic? My connection to Edom?" It just feels like he's asking question after question.

"You're a prince, aren't you? I doubt I have my name for any other reason than to serve royalty. No one, unless they're of royalty down there can get in my head like you can." And Alec smiles, shaking his head. "Or I'm talking nonsense and you just know how to get to me, or you understand me in whatever way you do."

_ The Swordsman--  _ it's another fancy word for  _ knight.  _ Perhaps the Clave saw this before Magnus did, that somehow a demonic warrior wouldn't get such a name without purpose. Despite this, they don't  _ know  _ Magnus is of Edom royalty, no one does except Luke, Catarina and Ragnor.

It's always been better that way, to keep everyone and himself safe. If the Clave knew, he'd be next on their growing list.

"This is all speculation, though. I would've known about this if it were true." Denial is the first step, and Alec's good at that.

"Yeah, speculation." He hums Turning around, Magnus meets Alec's solemn gaze, pressing two keys with a lack of passion for it. They're dragging out time, and it's starting to feel like salt on his skin.

_ Why is Alec so silent now? Does he really believe that's true? _

Magnus isn't fond of the silence, how it wraps him in a false sense of peace. It's far from that when he can feel how torn Alec is, wanting to speak a thousand words he doesn't know the language to.

He can see it in his eyes. Alec wants to say something so badly that he's having to bite his tongue, to go against his usual demonic way. There's no smirks, no flirting or magic to get him around this. 

"Valentine," just saying his name brings hatred to both of them. "He called me by another name, one I don't recall."

Magnus doesn't push him. He waits, allows him the room to breathe.

"He called me Alexander, and the way he said it-- it sounded like he knew me." 

"Like he knew you?" It's a question Magnus will keep even if he speaks it out loud right now, because he can always ask Valentine himself.

"It's as if everything I know is a  _ lie,  _ that I'm lying to myself. I swear to you, Magnus, it's not. This truth is the only thing I have, it's the only thing I  _ know  _ is true." Desperation clings to his voice, frightened about how there's fragments of him in this world that are parts of him too, but he doesn't have  _ any clue  _ as to what they are.

"Alec,  _ Alec,"  _ Magnus places a hand on his wrist, making sure it's on the edge of his suit and not skin. "I know. I know you wouldn't lie to me."

"I can't." He's almost sarcastic.

"I  _ know _ you wouldn't," repeats Magnus, more bold with his tone.

Alec only just catches on to the weight of those words, expression falling to one of feint belief. How can Magnus say such a thing? To trust a monster such as Alec?

"How do you know this? How can you be so certain of what you see in me?" He almost bites his tongue from how much his jaw shakes. "I want to tell you the truth-- but I don't want you to lose faith in me, when you know there's no saving me."

Magnus looks away, the hurt of Alec's face too much for him, even with a veteran heart such as his. That doesn't mean it can't bend and break in the same way, because it has, and it's due to break again.

But he'll try. He'll try to save it when he's let it burn before.

"Do you trust me?" 

Alec does. In some insane, hopeless way-- he does. He wants to tell him everything, and only then will he know if Magnus really does have faith in him.

Magnus watches Alec's expression shift, from confusion to defeat. Either way, Alec's full of uncertainty, as if he shouldn't dare to admit to that question what he truly feels. It feels wrong, alien almost.

He's never spoken to anyone about this, not even to himself. Sometimes things are best left unspoken, forgotten even if it's the only thing he remembers.

But Magnus,  _ Magnus Bane,  _ he's a man Alec wants to tell, to speak to in hope of some sort of guidance. An answer perhaps, as to why this all happened. Maia said practically everyone speaks to Magnus when they need help, for when they don’t know where to turn.

Of course, Alec is aware of where he's going, back to  _ Edom,  _ but he feels as if going back won’t be the same as previous times. Granted, he escaped through rips in dimensions, only to go back when he got bored of mundanes, but this time he’ll be carrying a lot more with him. 

"Whatever it is that's on your mind, I'll listen." Magnus always has, always will. Even when he told Alec to keep his distance, Magnus was always being careful, careful not to push and pull. "If I can't do anything else, I'll do that.”

And hearing that, the confirmation and truth in Magnus’ words, Alec feels every pound of tension bleed from his body, like there’s finally time to breathe. Looking over his shoulder, Alec glances to the outside world, sighs inward, doubt already creeping back.

Alec is so painfully aware of their distance that it's tempting to close it, or to run as far away as he can so that the heartbeat drumming in his ears finally stops. Magnus is completely aware that he's immune to Alec's touch, that his own magic nulls the curse, but it’s a fear that causes anxiety for Alec, and there’s no need to push the wolf further into his own cage.

For a few seconds, Alec breathes in silence, letting it wrap around him. Magnus starts to realise why, because when he has no answers, it's better to hear silence than a thousand what ifs.

It’s almost as if Alec is expecting something to happen, that someone’s watching him incase he expands the amount of people that know his very limited story besides himself.

To hell with it. If he's going back down, he won't go back knowing that he's truly alone. He'll look up knowing Magnus will look down-- at least that's what he hopes.

But Alec won't answer him, not yet. He trusts him, but it means more to say it truthfully than just in his head.

"I fell," Alec moves his fingers away from the keys, scared something will happen while he admits his story. "And I know that sounds stupid, because you've already heard that part, right?"

Magnus doesn't say anything. He listens, and only that.

"I know that my story says I was banished, that I was sentenced to Edom for a hideous crime-- but I don't know that part. I can't-- I can't remember what I did." Clenching his fists, Alec looks to them, remembers the flames he saw engulf them. "I just see someone, it's all blurry, standing there after they pushed me." He lifts his head up, heart fading. "I couldn't even see their face, I don't know who did this to me, how they felt when they did it."

It's torture in itself, listening and not being able to touch, to comfort and tell Alec that it won't happen again. But that'd be lying, wouldn't it? Magnus doesn't know if that'll ever be true.

Alec breathes through his teeth, closing his eyes, the images he conjures, bringing them back to the present, they're as clear as day and ever more painful so.

"My spine cracked, I grew wings, longer than the span of my arms, white and glowing in what I remember to be the glow of the sun. I felt-- warm, like I was safe for just a moment, that maybe it wasn't all bad. If I had wings, I could save myself, that falling wouldn't hurt because I wouldn't have to face it." The hope in his voice isn't hope at all, far from it. Ghostly defeat, damaged chords as he chokes on his breath. "But I was a fool. My wings didn't move, and when I felt gravity pull me down, I realised they were there to mock me, one last  _ hoorah  _ to what I was losing."

Alec stands up, piano forgotten as Alec walks away, hand to his mouth, trying to stop himself shaking. There's so much left, so much pain he can't say because how can Magnus understand if he hasn't felt it? Magnus can try, but there's nothing worse than false sympathy, a failed effort to relate to trauma.

But Magnus will still listen, still be there as a presence to tell Alec he's not alone. So he stands up, too, keeping his distance as he hovers near the piano, arms crossed defensively against his chest.

"It felt like years, as if I was falling for longer than I lived before. The entire time, I had fear, knowing that there wasn't going to be an end, that time would swallow me whole." There's no sense in his words, only pained mumbles, and he heaves with the weight of bringing these memories back. "I was forgetting myself, forgetting who I was, my family, everything."

Magnus steps forward, takes his wrist as Alec is so,  _ so  _ close to crying, but he can't. The world won't allow it.

"Alec, you don't have to do this today."

"I need to. I need to tell you. I need you to know I'm not worth a heart such as yours to give me a second chance."

"It’s not your burden to carry. They did this to you, Alec, and from the man I’ve spent time with over these past few weeks, I have no sense of why they condemned you to such a fate.” Magnus hates to see Alec crumble, how his face is folding, wanting to cry but he can’t. 

“It is,” he whines, hands shaking as he brings them from his mouth, rough fingertips slowly showing through a glamour. “They did this to me. Why would they do this if I didn’t deserve it?”

He’s staring at Magnus through tears, tears that won’t make Magnus any more clear to him, always out of focus because he can’t seem to fathom someone forgiving him.

With the amount of pain he feels, the agony that slithers like a snake through his organs, sinking its fangs in when he feels an ounce of something  _ new,  _ something  _ healthy--  _ he’s their perfect little machine, always kicking himself as if he doesn’t deserve a second chance.

Magnus, a man of his years, knows better than to trust the judgement of someone he’s never seen. He’d rather trust what’s real, what he can  _ touch,  _ what he can  _ see. _

A leap of faith, that’s what he needs to give Alec, to show that he’s not a lost cause, that he can mean something to someone, and most importantly--  _ himself. _

His hands move without conscious thought, slow as they move, but Magnus watches how Alec watches him, cautions and moving back slightly when the warlock’s fingertips hover near his face.

“Do you trust me?” Magnus asks once more, and it's all he says, soft, calm. 

Valentine is in custody, the Downworld is safe until the Clave makes another mistake, and Magnus doesn’t have any demanding appointments. If Alec is truly going back, then this is Magnus’ chance to be someone to Alec, a name he can think of and believe he’s not just an empty shell for whatever vile revenge Edom desires him for.

“I do,” Alec replies, voice hoarse. The constant pull of his lungs is taking its toll on him. “I trust you.”

_ You’re the only one that looks at me like this,  _ Alec says to himself, the warm, deep brown of Magnus’ eyes shadowing emotions of sadness, and he swears he can see Magnus welling up a little. The weight of such a story, the untimely balance it rocks back and forth between them, it’s not something Magnus can process in a matter of minutes.

But right now, Magnus wants to comfort him, needs to show him that it’s possible for him to live in this world despite his curse. 

Magnus moves his fingers up, ghosting over Alec’s cheeks, thumb hovering over the line of his jaw. Alec can feel his blood begin to boil, moving to follow Magnus’ movements and waiting for the moment to  _ bite,  _ to inflict so much pain that Magnus will become nothing but ash. 

Alec’s nerves trip, and he’s jolted back, angry with himself that there’s so much holding him back when there shouldn’t be. He trusts Magnus, but his worst enemy can’t let him go, can’t let him explore the possibility that he’s not as damned as they say he is.

He’s scared of himself. He doesn’t  _ trust  _ himself.

“I’m sorry,” Alec whispers, head dipping between his shoulders, squeezing them together with tension that snapped back into his body like an elastic band.

“Don’t be,” Magnus says, soothing Alec with the tone of his voice. “One step at a time.”

Looking down to one of his hands, Alec closes his trembling fingers into his palm, remembering how he tried to stop Magnus when he thought he was Valentine during his breakdown. 

"Would you wait?".

"For what?"

"Me," Alec breathes out, heavy. "This."

Magnus realises he's talking about touch, his hands on his, the connection to the world he's lost.

"As long as it takes."

"And what if I don't really want to wait?"

Taking a deep breath himself, Magnus allows his heart to decide. "Then I'm here."

There’s a very, very small hope shining in Alec’s eyes.

And then he’s reaching for Magnus, sniffing to ease his blocked airway, stuffed full when he started to break down. He’s still hiccuping, but it’s at bay for now.

“Can I?” Alec requests, looking down to Magnus’ hands that rest by his side, rings golden, silver and shining in the steady light of the morning.

A smile dorns Magnus’ lips, small but there. “Yes,” he says, and Alec swallows, releases the breath he’s been holding once more. “Prove it to yourself.”

Lifting one hand, Magnus leaves it there, allowing Alec to move at his own pace. It’s between them now, so Alec won't have to reach far, but the demon shuffles ever so closer, still a width apart but closer than before. Alec makes eye contact for a mere second, not hearing him correctly.

“Prove what?” 

Magnus stays silent, looking away from Alec, as hard as it to do so. 

With no reply, Alec decides he’ll stay true to his word and trust him. Perhaps Magnus knows he’ll have his answer soon enough, as soon as he makes contact and believes in it.

Taking a deep breath, Alec moves one hand closer to Magnus’, nerves shaking his entire body, an endless amount of unknown telling him to hold back, warnings in his head climbing louder and louder. It’s like his whole body is scratching at his skin, wanting him to move back, to not fall victim to another mistake again, to not have Magnus’ cursed end on his concious for however many more years he lives.

But it’s silent, all of a sudden, and Alec doesn’t realise that he’s closed his eyes until nothing but silence feeds back to him. His heartbeat, once lost,  _ thunders  _ in his ears until he realises it's not his, but the man in front of him.

Then he feels it, smooth skin,  _ just  _ touching him, almost a ghost.

Opening his eyes, he rubs the moisture away with the hand not frozen still, and after a few more tries and hiccups of breath, he sees it.

Alec’s fingertips are resting on Magnus’ palm, and seconds go by without anything happening. No magic, no glamour.

No flames. No curse. No pain. No regret.

He’s able to touch someone, to feel as if he’s not alone anymore. And he’s not.

Alec can’t believe it, not yet, not until he’s moving his fingertips over Magnus’ palm, towards the joints of his fingers, the bumps of his rings and to the soft tips of his fingers. He’s warm, more than Alec thought he’d be, and it suddenly unsettles him how many questions he’s had about Magnus-- and now he’s answered one.

He thought he’d leave here without any, and before he can do anything else, any other thought, he’s moving his other hand to join in.

Alec cups his other hand onto the back of Magnus’ hand, the fingertips on his palm going to his wrist, the veins he feels singing the rhythm of his heartbeat back to Alec. It makes him smile, the sign of life that’s so insignificant, but a reminder of life itself. He’s never felt his own, only heard it in his head when he’s on the verge of losing control, as if it’s one last reminder before he falls again.

Magnus watches in silence; the care and cautious nature of Alec’s eyes, the gentle and almost ghostly touch of Alec’s hands. His skin is rough, although the glamour he wears makes him think otherwise. Scars of a warrior with no time to heal, everyone has them. Magnus has them, too, but they’re on the inside rather than out, and it’s probably why people perceive him as such a strong person.

Wounds you can’t see are always harder to heal, and Alec has so many lingering beneath a glamour that Magnus fears he’s never tried to heal them.

Cupping his hand, Alec starts to feel his lungs stutter again, eyes squeezing shut as he memorizes the small details of Magnus’ hand, allows himself to press a little firmer until he’s holding him gently. His rings give contrast in temperature to his skin, and the word sits on the tip of Alec’s tongue.

Magnus hears a mumble, shifting his gaze from Alec’s trembling hands to Alec’s lips, seeing the way he worries it between his teeth, trying to stop the sob that inevitably breaks.

And then there’s something he never thought he’d see.

A tear, small and lonely, falling down his cheek and leaving a trail that shines from the neighbouring lamp. Alec doesn’t feel it yet, but it’s less about letting his emotions free than it is of accepting himself. He’s making contact with the world he lost, the world he was cursed to leave.

And the dam that’s been holding him back breaks, Alec crying to his only witness.

_ “Thank you,” _ he says between a sob, dipping his head to try and hide the tears he can now feel. He’s more human than he’s ever been, and Magnus was right all along. 

“I didn’t do anything, Alec,” Magnus brings his other hand closer, brushing his thumb over Alec’s knuckles. 

It’s a relief to Magnus, too, being able to comfort Alec like this. 

“You listened to me,” he says in reply, voice a little broken. “You gave me a chance.”

“That was all you,” Magnus won’t allow Alec to think it’s all been Magnus because it’s been a team effort. Alec has also opened Magnus’ eyes to a lot of things he’d never thought he’d believe, but they’ve always been there. “You took this step.”

“But you allowed me to,” another sob breaks through his lips, and he’d wipe away the tear tickling his cheek, but he doesn’t want to lose contact of Magnus’ hands. 

So, Magnus does it. Leaving the cold air to linger where he once held Alec, he wipes his thumb across Alec’s cheek, and it’s then that Alec realises. His eyes widen, holding fear until Magnus brushes another one away, respecting that he still doesn’t want to be held near his face.

But then Alec’s hands move quick, taking hold of him, looking at Magnus' thumb as if he wants to see proof of what he feels. There’s moisture there, cold when his fingertips touch it.

“They’re cold, aren’t they?” Magnus says, finally slotting that word back into the missing piece of Alec’s puzzle.

“Cold…” he repeats, pressing his fingertips to Magnus’ rings. “They’re cold?”

“Opposite to warmth,” Magnus explains, holding Alec’s hands tightly, thumb moving across the side of his palm. 

“I shouldn’t-- I shouldn’t be able to cry,” it’s devastating when he finally looks to Magnus, red eyes bright but dull at the same time. “How is this possible?”

It’s easy to explain when Magnus has been thinking of it all this time. 

“Because you’re not what they say you are,” he squeezes Alec’s hand slightly. “That’s what they made you to be, what they want you to believe.”

Alec doesn’t seem sure, balancing his emotions on unstable ground. This shouldn’t be happening, he shouldn’t be holding Magnus’ hand, touching skin to skin without ash or flames. It’s surreal, almost a dream that somehow Magnus keeps being part of.

“If anything, they’re scared of us, scared of how good people we can be despite how holy they claim their blood is. We’re defying odds, judgement, and we’re becoming people to change this world for the better,” Magnus strokes his thumb across Alec’s cheek again, another stray tear falling slowly. “Just because you have the blood of a demon doesn’t mean you are one. You  _ are,  _ but you choose to be  _ you,  _ a man learning to see right from wrong, controlling his urges one step at a time.”

Closing his eyes, Alec brings Magnus’ hands up, holds them close to his own chest where Alec’s warmth is more gentle than overwhelming. Magnus is Alec’s anchor, to bring him down and keep him down. No falling from grace, no falling to the depths so they can consume him again.

He’s going back, but he’ll go back with the world behind him knowing he’s helped save people instead of curse them. Valentine is the only exception to that, and no one will judge him for it. Alec did his job, punished the soul worthy of it, and no one else.

“You’re just saying this,” Alec tries to lock his emotions and throw away the key. This can’t be real, can’t be true. “No one forgives someone that easily, not after what I told you-- I didn't even tell you all of it."

Magnus laughs, and the sound makes Alec confused, opening his eyes. The frown he wears makes Magnus smile, seeing the beauty in it Alec can’t.

“You’re not just anyone, Alec.”

They hold eye contact for longer than usual, and Alec’s frown starts to fade when Magnus starts to play with one of his rings, moving it around Alec’s finger. Alec looks down, swallowing, talking as if he’s acting disinterested, but he’s anything but.

“What does that mean?”

“That you’re someone special.” And like that, Alec’s face blanks. 

“Special?”

“You fell from heaven, survived Edom’s wrath, saved the Downworld-- my  _ family.  _ Not everyone can do that and live to smile out of the happiness of his heart and not of ill intention. You’re anything  _ but  _ a demon, and frankly, I am too, and do you see me creating havoc?”

Alec bites his bottom lip, thinking. He laughs when he turns his head away, looking to Magnus’ office.

“Except from annoying the Clave,” Alec’s small smile makes Magnus’ own grow brighter. “But no, you’re a man worthy of so much more than what life has given you.”

That’s… unexpected. 

Magnus pauses, losing flow on what he wanted to say. Alec looks at him,  _ really  _ looks at him, moving one hand to press his thumb to Magnus’ jaw, feeling the sharpness. Alec follows where his thumb moves, up to the space just below his ear, then back down again until it falls from his chin.

“You have just as many demons as I do,” Alec explains, always knowing but never believing that Magnus would accept him. “To carry that much weight, to be a guidance to all of these people, you’re more of a man than I’ll ever be.”

“But do you want to try?”

“Maybe,” Alec stutters, as if he didn’t really want to say that, but something else entirely different. “I don’t think I’m ready to answer that.”

“Then I’ll be here when you are,” Magnus moves his thumb over the back of Alec’s hand, feeling another rough bump from a scar.

Silence, followed by a question that shatters the patient glass between them, “And what if I’m not here?”

Magnus’ thumb pauses, and Alec can see the moment his brain searches desperately for answers. He doesn’t know about that either, and for a moment he just expected that Alec would be  _ here,  _ with  _ Magnus. _

“Can’t answer that?” Alec feels as if the pause has gone on for too long, and frankly, he doesn’t want to hear what possible answer Magnus has that’ll break his already nonexistent heart.

Painfully, Magnus ignores him, clearing his throat as he takes his hands away. The loss of contact feels like Alec loses a part of himself in a mere second, a bone or an organ ripped away with a hamper of consequences.

His hands go limp, no nerves, but regret.

_ "Magnus,"  _ cries Alec, the first time he's ever spoken his first name.  _ "Can I stay?" _

He sounds so distant even when he's come so far. Magnus halts, staring at the piano they played at, how Alec smiled. Magnus finds himself wishing for more of that, the company he held so dearly even if just for a minute.

Magnus asked if he could stay, and now Alec is, too.

But hearing his name, spoken with a tone such as that, it makes Magnus  _ crumble.  _ He asked mere moments ago why Alec doesn't call him that, that he has reasons.

Now, Magnus knows why. He was too scared, too scared the world wouldn't accept him, so he ignored the reality, the truth of it.

"Alec, I can't do that."

"Not-- not forever." Even though a whisper tells him that's a lie in some form. "Just tonight."

He could be suggesting what he's said before, but Magnus can sense different. From the way his eyes shine with tears, how his hands hover in front of him, trembling with fear that he'll never feel that again, he's almost  _ begging  _ just to be with him, to touch him even for a second more.

"I won't ask anything else of you," Alec can't speak anything but the truth, anyway. "I just want this," he steps forward, reaching for Magnus' hands that he can't take, not yet. "I just want to feel  _ alive." _

When Magnus meets his eyes, his own fingers tremble. They reach up, finding themselves home as they cup Alec's face, the tremble of his jaw calming down.

"Just tonight." 

Alec closes his eyes, breathes in as he leans into Magnus' right hand, another tear falling down his cheek. He can't believe this, can't imagine he's allowed this when every day he curses himself for wanting more.

There's nothing left in his lungs to say any more, feeling cold when Magnus' hands leave his face, taking his hands instead and leading him away from the piano.

They walk past the guest rooms, eyes still trying to read what the other is thinking, but as the bedroom door kicks shut behind them, Magnus breaks away from him for just a second to remove his jacket.

Not once does Alec look away, his face stained with tears and eyes red besides his pupil colour. A single word circles his head, hands reaching out to touch Magnus' face, gentle, as if he's still afraid of hurting him.

Magnus smiles, sweet and sincere, but a hint of fear. He shouldn't be doing this, shouldn't be letting him in.

Taking his hand again, Magnus sits down on the bed, Alec following to sit beside him. Alec looks down to their hands, smiles with tears as he grips tighter, thumb moving over the back of his hand. 

Magnus kicks off his shoes, Alec does the same, choosing to skip his nightly routine for such a rare and odd occasion. He scoots up the bed, Alec watching until Magnus pats the spot beside him.

Alec looks away, before looking back, a look in his eyes that almost breaks Magnus' resolve. 

But Alec ignores it, ignores his own irritating urges and lays down next to Magnus, on his side as he reaches for his hands once more. 

He does nothing but stare at them, how skin moves against skin, rings moving around their selected fingers, the warmth it brings.

As Magnus watches him fall asleep, Magnus can't help but realise he too, is falling. He's falling for him, in more ways than one, and agreeing to this rules out going back to feeling nothing at all.

It's either all part of Alec's plan, or it's Magnus' heart denying what he wants. There's no way Alec can become that broken only for it to be a lie. 

Magnus can't fall for him, he  _ can't.  _

But as Alec brings his hand close to his own chest, head down and hair messy against the sheets; maybe Magnus can dream of it.

Dreams aren't real, after all.

 

\- - - - -

 

_ "There's always something waiting, yearning for more, _

_ It's either what we've lost, or what we hope to gain. _

_ The sun will always dawn, no matter what happens." _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> next chap tease: soft mornings, catarina catches up, maia asks izzy an important question, clave

**Author's Note:**

> You can find me [@oceantlde!](https://twitter.com/oceantlde)  
> Thank you for reading!


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